


The Man Out of Time

by DogStar234



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Time Traveler's Wife Fusion, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Casual Sex, Eventual Happy Ending, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Underage Sex, Non-Linear Narrative, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Hogwarts, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, Timey-Wimey, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Walburga Black's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-09-05 18:54:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16816447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DogStar234/pseuds/DogStar234
Summary: Harry gets hit with a piece of the veil, and falls into Sirius's past. And back again.Loosely inspired by The Time Traveler's Wife.





	1. Chapter 1

“Time is the longest distance between two places.”  
― Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie

Harry chased the rogue Unspeakable down the corridor, not pausing when he entered a familiar room, the one where he lost his godfather. He heard Auror Robards just behind him, and he blocked the curse that was sent his way.

“It’s over!” Harry shouted at him. “You’re surrounded—you can’t escape. It’ll be best for you if you come quietly, we can talk about this!”

Unspeakable Tooley just quirked his eyebrows and raised his wand again. Harry cast a shield around him, ready for whatever came, but in one swift movement, Tooley swiveled on his feet and screamed " _Bombarda Maxima_ ,” at the veil.

In the space of a moment, the veil exploded into a million little pieces, inhuman shouts coming out the other side. Harry raised his shield, but tiny chunks of the veil fell down through it, and one touched his bare skin. He shouted, feeling his body ache in a way it never had before. He thought of his sons, if they would remember him, they were so young, he hoped they knew that they were wanted and loved more than anything. He sent a silent apology in his mind to Ginny and took a breath.

But it wasn’t his last, as he expected. He kept moving, he was going somewhere. It was a million times worse than apparition, Harry felt his bones re-arrange and travel through what felt like a horrifying distance, until he landed on his feet in a bedroom that looked oddly familiar.

There was a child sleeping in a wrought-iron bed, he was older than James, Harry took his wand out to light a soft Lumos to see his surroundings a little better. There was a constellation nightlight on the wall.

The boy blinked his eyes open and jumped out of bed, running over to him.

“Harry! You’re back!” he yelled, big gray eyes wide with delight.

“Err, hello,” Harry said, sheathing his wand.

“Are you not happy to see me too?” he asked, pouting his bottom lip. He was hopping from foot to foot in excitement.

“Are your parents around?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “This is their house, isn’t it? But don’t worry, I used to cry a lot when I was a baby or after I was punished so they put silencing wards on the room so they can’t hear me!”

“Right,” Harry said to that horrifying sentence and searched the boy’s face. It was so familiar. He nearly had it, it was on the tip of his tongue. He knew that face.

The boy sighed loudly, and ran around to find a toy quaffle in his room, and chucked it at him.

Harry caught it, and stared again at the boy.

“Harry, you don’t know me yet, do you?” he asked, still jumping around in boyish excitement or nervous energy or maybe both.

“I’m afraid not,” Harry apologised.

“It’s your first time then! You just got cursed in the ministry,” the boy said, a mischievous grin appearing on his face.

“That’s right,” Harry said, crouching down to the boy’s level. “Do you think you can tell me about that, mate? I’m a little lost.”

The boy nodded. “You said you’d be confused when you came to me for the first time, it’s some sort of curse from the blasted veil, but that Hermy-something is working on a cure and um, you’ll be back to where you came from soon and not to worry too much!”

“Thank you,” Harry said, feeling more disoriented than he had in his entire life. “I’m sorry that you know me and I don’t know you though.”

“Mother says you musn’t apologise, it makes you look weak like a Muggle, but it’s not like we’ve ever even met any Muggles,” the boy said and _oh_ , of course Harry knew who this was. “Sirius Black, at your service,” he said with a dramatic bow.

“Harry, but you know that, I guess,” he replied, his voice only shaking a little. “So we’re at Grimmauld Place?”

Sirius nodded. “This is my room!”

It looked different without the posters of muggle women and Gryffindor posters, but Harry could almost recognise the blank canvas. “And how old are you, Sirius?”

Sirius held up 7 fingers. “And four more years till I go to Hogwarts!”

“That’s right,” Harry agreed, tossing the quaffle back to him. Sirius caught it and threw it back with gusto.

“Your face looks weird,” Sirius commented, after getting bored of tossing the quaffle around.

“That’s just my face, I’m afraid,” Harry joked, sticking out his tongue.

Sirius laughed and made his face go crossed eyed. “Are you scared? Don’t be scared! I told you what happens, you’ll go back and leave me, you always do!”

Harry sat down on Sirius’s floor, thinking that he was the one who left him, not the other way around. “I’m not afraid. Just confused. And hoping your mum doesn’t come in here.”

“She is scary,” Sirius agreed. “But she’ll never come in here, she doesn’t, she just gets the stupid elf to drag me out for punishments.”

“What kind?” Harry said, his voice going hard. James was only 4 but he would rather cut off his wand-arm than hurt his son.

“Oh, all sorts,” Sirius said with a shrug. “It’s because I’m bad and don’t behave like a proper heir.”

“You’re not bad,” Harry said, his heart breaking. “You’re so good, Sirius. Don't forget that.”

“You always tell me that, and that’s why you’re my best friend in the whole wide world,” he replied. “Want to play with my new model set of the Tornadoes? I’ll let you be seeker again!”

“Sure, Sirius,” Harry said, watching as Sirius scurried to grab his set of quidditch models.

Harry took a deep breath, but his body started to tingle, the great waves of pain starting again. He bit his lip again and watched Sirius blink out of focus and in the space of a moment, he was back at the Department of Mysteries. Pieces of the veil were scattered everywhere, and Unspeable Tooley was in chains.

“I’m fine,” Harry said, staring at his colleagues. “Just had a little trip.”

Auror Robards shot a glare at him but just sighed. The strangest things always happened when he was around.

Harry begged off the paperwork, and flooed home. James and Albus were asleep, and he kissed them both goodnight, double-checked that they were fine, and re-cast the alert spells on their rooms.

If they woke up with a cough or a night terror or even sneezed, he and Ginny would know.

He crept to the bedroom, where Ginny was reading a novel and she smiled as he walked in, but the expression fell off her face when she looked at him properly.

“What happened?” she asked, closing her book and padding the side of the bed for him to come closer.

He let her hold him, and take his ministry outer robe off. “I saw Sirius.”

“Harry, he’s been dead 13 years.”

“I know that,” he protested. “I’m not crazy! I was chasing an Unspeakable that was found to be taking bribes from a sect of Russian dark wizards, and he blew up the veil, Gin. And part of it hit me, and I met Sirius, but he was only a little boy, but he knew me, called me Harry.”

Ginny grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry. What was he like?”

Harry rubbed at his eyes. “Like James, excited and happy and he wanted to show me his toys, but his Mum was already horrible to him, he said he knew he was a bad boy.”

Ginny cursed underneath her breath.

“My thoughts exactly,” Harry replied.

Ginny grabbed his hand, and ran a comforting hand through his hair. “Harry, I don’t know how to say this.”

“What?” he said, feeling bone-tired, in pain and like the wound of losing Sirius was ripped open all over again.

“You know you can’t save Sirius, right? He goes to Hogwarts and becomes best friends with your Dad and becomes your godfather…and what happens, has to happen, right? Horrible things happened to wizards who have meddled with time.”

Harry’s head hurt. “We saved him before, in third year. Hermione and I.”

“I think you should talk to Hermione about it,” Ginny replied, her freckled face looking a little pale with fear.

“I will,” Harry promised.

“Are you alright?” Ginny asked after a moment.

“You know, I don’t think I am.”

“You will be,” Ginny promised, and Harry nearly believed her.

Harry didn’t speak to Hermione though. It had been four days, and nothing else had happened, so he was a little convinced that it was all in his head. The pain had faded to nothing and he didn’t even get any new scars for his efforts.

He was back at work, ready to go home after an unproductive day looking at closed case files that Unspeakable Tooley had consulted on when the same horrible sensation pulled him back out of his desk, out of his body, and out of time. He swallowed a scream and stopped fighting, falling on his arse on a cold stone floor. He looked around, it was Hogwarts, he’d recognise it anywhere.

Sirius was bent over a desk, writing lines dispassionately.

“Detention then?” Harry asked, brushing the dirt off his robes.

“It was worth it,” Sirius said. “Hello Harry!”

“I’ve missed you,” Harry said honestly.

“Me too,” Sirius admitted, dropping his quill.

“And how old are you now, Sirius?”

“Sixteen,” Sirius said. “And you’re the same as ever.”

“28, yeah,” Harry replied. “Probably the cryptkeeper to a 16-year old.”

“Yeah, you’re a regular Albus Dumbledore,” Sirius joked, but Merlin, if Sirius was 16, then Dumbledore was probably just up in his office. Maybe he was pacing or eating a lemon drop or chatting with Fawkes, or doing Order business…when Harry could end the whole war with the knowledge inside of his head.

Sirius chucked a wad of parchment at him. “Oi, Harry, you don’t look old, let it go, I was only having a laugh.”

“I wasn’t worrying about that,” Harry said, taking a step closer to that. “I got my first grey hair a few years ago and honestly, I kind of like them.” It reminded him that he was alive, that he made it, but he didn’t tell Sirius that he never thought he’d make it to 18 let alone 28.

Sirius’s face pinked a little, but he quickly recovered. “You look fine, I suppose. And you’re a Potter, but the vanity gene must have skipped you somehow. James is going to throw the mother of all strops when he starts going grey.”

Harry looked down.

“What’s the matter? Do I throw a strop when I get old? Come on Mister Man out of time, give me a hint, do you travel to visit me when I’m old?”

Harry shook his head. “You always look good, Sirius, that’s not something you need to worry about.”

“I wasn’t,” he insisted, and kicked back on his heels. “How are you feeling, do you think we have time to get out of here and go grab a pint of butterbeer or something stronger?”

Harry took a deep breath, and felt his magic tingle. “I think I’m here for a bit, yeah. But I can’t just be waltzing around the castle, people are going to notice I’m not a student.”

Sirius waved a hand at him. “I’ll just tell them that James accidentally took an aging potion…or hold on,” he said, rustling in his bag. He made a noise of delight and tossed Harry his cloak. “I had it stashed for a prank later, I nearly forgot!”

“Wicked,” Harry said, running his hands down the familiar fabric.

“Of course you know what it is, Potter family heirloom and all,” Sirius grumbled. “I can’t tell you anything.”

“You can tell me whatever you like, I don’t know everything, I’m not Dumbledore,” Harry protested, as he slipped on the cloak and followed Sirius down to the statute of the one-eyed witch.

“Is it a Hogsmeade weekend?” Harry asked.

“Nah, mate, it’s a Tuesday, but Rosmerta likes me and if we’re back before too late, no one will be any wiser,” Sirius said, shooting a naughty grin.

“And if you get caught, you can always run away and turn into a dog,” Harry said lightly, and Sirius stopped in his tracks.

“That’s a secret,” Sirius huffed.

“It’s brilliant is what it is, Padfoot,” Harry said, continuing to walk along the hidden passageway. “I’ve always admired what you did to help Moony.”

Sirius threw his hands up. “Harry! That’s the kind of talk that makes me think you know everything. It’s unfair.”

“It is a bit, yeah.” Harry agreed.

“Sometimes I wake up angry that I have this whole other best friend that no one can know about, or they’d think I was cracked if I did tell them,” Sirius confessed. “It’s so unfair that you know more about me than I know about you.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how much I can tell you without getting us all into a whole lot of trouble,” Harry said, thinking back to the time-turners.

“That bores me, I’ve heard that one so many times before,” Sirius said, picking up the pace. “Last one to the Honeydukes entrance is a rotten Occamy egg.”

Harry started to run, but Sirius transformed into a dog, and on four legs, handily beat him to the exit.

“Dirty cheater,” he complained, but Padfoot just licked his hand and in the space of a moment, Sirius was back.

“Scoot over,” Sirius said, and went under the invisibility cloak as well.

Harry was full-grown and Sirius was nearly there, he wouldn’t get much taller, making it was a close squeeze under the cloak. He could smell a woodsy, amber scent of Sirius’s cologne, he had taken so much pride in his appearance, down to the little details.

Harry shook off the thought of just how pleasant it was, and tip-toed through Honeydukes to the exit, swinging the door open on the way out.

“Well done, top marks on the Hogwarts jailbreak,” Sirius said, as they made their way over to The Three Broomsticks.

“I’ve done it before,” Harry admitted.

“Can you tell me about it or will it possibly destroy the whole world and everything good wizards and witches hold dear,” Sirius said, dramatically swooning onto a barstool.

Harry laughed despite himself, loving seeing Sirius so carefree and light. “I can tell you. I wasn’t allowed to go to Hogsmeade my third year, I didn’t get my slip signed.”

“I got my Dad to sign it after promising to look after Regulus, or I wouldn’t have got mine either,” Sirius confessed.

Harry nodded. “Anyway, I wanted to go to Hogsmeade with my friends…so I took the same passage we just took many times, with that very cloak. Got all the butterbeer and Honeydukes’ my stomach could handle.”

Sirius grinned, lighting up the room. “Looks like the Potters have a legacy of troublemaking, hmm?”

Harry nodded.

“Your grandson is doing well carrying on your legacy then,” Sirius said, after ordering them two butterbeers.

Harry blinked at him. “Sorry?”

“I know you can’t tell me much, but I stayed at the Potter House this summer, because my family is, well you know how they are, and I saw your family tree. Henry Potter, you were alive for the first ten years of Jamie’s life at least. I mean, you’re at least 100 years younger now, but man out of time, what have you.” Sirius said, looking smug at having ‘figured it out’.

Harry swallowed. “You’re a very clever boy, Sirius.”

“I know,” he said, smiling at Rosmerta as she dropped two mugs in front of them. “I can understand why it’d be weird for you to meet him, you’ve not even had your own son yet.”

Harry shrugged. “Lots of things are weird in my life, you have no idea.”

“I might have a bit of one, being the first Black to be sorted in Gryffindor in you know, ever, and my best friends are James Potter and another Potter who I’ve known my entire life.”

Harry felt a surge of love for his godfather then, so young and so brave and so much fun.

“You’re looking at me funny. What is it?” Sirius said, looking down at his drink, and blushing again.

“I’m enjoying spending time with you that’s all,” Harry said. “Just sneaking out and having a drink together.”

“I’d say we should do this more often, but it’s not like you can control it,” Sirius replied.

“No,” Harry agreed. “But I’m glad that whatever happened, it brought me to you.”

Sirius smiled again, Merlin, he was so easy to please at this age, so full of life and open with him.

But Sirius-his-godfather had always been happy to see him too. Harry’s head hurt, but then his whole body started to tingle.

“You’re off again, then?” Sirius asked, and Harry nodded.

“See you soon,” he whispered before falling back to his proper time.

Harry landed back at the ministry and he sprinted down the hall to where Hermione worked, ignoring the strange looks he was getting from passerbys.

He didn’t even knock on her door, he just swung it open and silenced it behind him.

Hermione was there, sucking on a quill and look over her notes, but she caught one look at his face and she stood up and grabbed him into a tight hug.

“Did it happen again?” she asked him.

He nodded. “What did Ginny tell you?”

“Oh, I didn’t hear much from her, exactly, I got the unspeakable files too,” she told him. “You disappearing and reappearing in an area of the ministry that doesn’t allow apparition is a mystery in itself.”

Harry swallowed and started to tell her the story, the words spilling out of him like a knocked-over glass of water, he couldn’t stop once he started.

Hermione listened, not stopping to interrupt him maybe once. “Oh, Harry,” she said, tugging at her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not all that sorry,” he said, his heart hurting. “He’s not my godfather yet, but I’d take more pain if it meant being able to see him again.”

“I know,” she said, scrambling for parchment so she could start writing some notes down. “Just be careful, okay? I’ll do some research, but don’t try and change anything significant.”

Harry snorted. “Like what? Hello, Sirius, how are you? Don’t trust Wormtail, do you want to go play Quidditch?”

Hermione didn’t find that funny. “That’s exactly what I mean, Harry. Maybe your parents live for a while longer, but Sirius is the secret-keeper and killed for his efforts….you’re safe, but the ministry falls sooner and Voldemort starts his reign of terror years before this time. Countless people could die before you grow old enough to stop him.”

Harry felt ill. “What if I tell him about the horcruxes?”

Hermione tugged at her cloud of brown hair frantically. “I don’t know, Harry. It could work or it could be a disaster. It’s too risky. I’ll look into it, but there’s so many ways it could blow up.”

“So what, I just pretend to be my own grandfather and listen to his stories?”

Hermione nodded. “He said you’re his friend, Harry. You could try and be that.”

“Alright,” he said, his heart still beating too fast. “Just look into why this is happening, please, I don’t know how much I can take.”

“I know how hard this must be for you,” Hermione said.

Harry doubted that she did, but he felt grateful for her help anyway.

“I wonder if it’s taking you to Sirius’s past because he was the last one to fall in the veil,” Hermione mused aloud, and Harry sat down at her desk.

“I don’t know if I can see that again,” Harry confessed. “Seeing him as a child is hard enough…Hermione, his parents are so awful, they treat him as if he’s worse than dirt.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing that he has someone who understands what that’s like then, hmm?” Hermione said, her eyes going glassy with unshed tears.

“Stop,” Harry protested, not wanting her pity. He was grown now, and tried not to think of the cupboard or Petunia’s cruel words.

“I’m just saying that as much as this is a curse, you understand, so maybe it’s a gift too, magic tends to have both,” Hermione explained before fixing him a cup of tea.

“Thanks,” Harry muttered dully, taking a sip of the too-hot Darjeeling.

“Go on home,” Hermione said. “Go kiss your sons, who you are raising to know that they’re loved, and remember that we all love you so much, okay? And I’ll get some books on time magic and the veil and see you soon.”

Harry nodded, and headed for the floo.


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re wound as tight as a drum, mate,” Ron said when he saw him the next day. He had dragged him out of the Auror office for lunch, and Harry was picking at Pret baguette, enjoying the anonymity the pair of them had in a muggle café.

“You’d be a bit on edge if you could fall into the past at any moment,” Harry muttered back.

“Well, yeah,” Ron agreed. “If I was here with you, then was at the Burrow with Fred…” he trailed off. 

“Part of me had thought that weird things happening to me was over,” Harry confessed.

“In the past you mean?” Ron said, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Harry appreciated the bad joke, and took another sip of his fizzy drink. 

“We’ll find a way to stop it, Harry,” Ron said, so confident.

“And by we, you mean Hermione?”

Ron grinned. “I’m on research duty too, but yeah.” 

“What if I don’t want it to stop?” Harry said quietly.

Ron took a good look at his face, and put his sandwich down, and went over to wrap him in a hug.

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Ron said after he let go. “I do think the risks are a little too high, but you know what’s at stake, no matter how good it is to talk with Sirius again. He really loved you, mate.”

Harry nodded, feeling strangely guilty, and walked back to the ministry with Ron after they had finished their lunch. On the way, he thought how much he’d like to see Sirius again, wondering how old he’d be this time, and then he shifted, bracing himself against the wall for the worst kind of apparition.

His whole body was flung back through time again, feeling like a thousand tiny needles were piercing his skin.

He blinked and Sirius was there, but he wasn’t alone. He was in the middle of a big, wrought iron bed, with some fit bloke fucking into him from behind and a willowy brunette girl underneath him, sucking him off.

The man stopped fucking Sirius when he saw Harry, and made a shout of surprise. “Did that bloke just come from nowhere?”

“Uh, no, he came in the door,” Sirius lied through his teeth. “Must be the pills, mate.”

The man shrugged, and stared at Harry. “Are you going to join the fun then?” 

Harry looked at Sirius, really looked at him. His pupils were blown wide with lust and he truly was so handsome, but there was a dark look behind his eyes, and he couldn’t tell if it was anger or grief or both. He wasn't okay.

“Harry, you can fuck me next, I’ll make it so good for you,” Sirius offered generously, looking at him though his lashes, though it came off more brittle than seductive.

“I’m afraid the party is over,” Harry said in his best Dad voice. “You two need to leave.”

“That’s not your decision, you’re not _my_ grandfather,” Sirius argued, face going red.

The woman pulled off Sirius’s cock, making a distinctive noise, and she looked at him for the first time. “Are you his boyfriend?” she slurred.

“That’s not your concern,” Harry said, scooping up clothes that didn’t look like Sirius’s, and dumping them unceremoniously on the bed. 

He felt a swoop of an unfamiliar emotion and it took him a second to place it as jealousy.

“Harry, mind your goddamn business,” Sirius shouted, standing up, naked, to argue with him. His cock was hard and flushed and red and long and Harry hated himself for looking down at it for just a half-second.

“I’m not great at minding my business, so either the muggles get out or I’m going to just wander the streets of wherever I am until I leave again,” Harry said, more calmly than he felt.

“I’m not a mug!” the man shouted at him, and Harry sighed. 

“Fine. You’re not a mug. But you’re leaving. Get out, the pair of you, you heard the man,” Sirius said, gesturing to the door.

“Whatever, I didn’t sign up for any domestics,” the woman said. “Let’s go, Roger.”

The man and woman got dressed in a hurry and left, slamming the door shut behind them.

“I don’t know why you think you can boss me around like that,” Sirius said, flopping dramatically back down on his bed. 

Harry took off his boots, and laid down next to him. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“I like sex, am good at it, and you’re the world’s biggest cock block is what happened,” Sirius muttered.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t care about that. What happened to make your eyes look like that? You’re not happy, I can tell.”

“What, like you don’t already know from your jaunts around the timeline?” Sirius snapped.

“What happened, Padfoot?” Harry asked again, in a softer voice. Sirius had a stray lock of hair falling in his eyes, and Harry brushed it back behind his ear for him, and Sirius shuddered slightly at his touch.

“Regulus has got himself killed is what happened,” Sirius said.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry replied, reaching out to grab Sirius in a tight hug, ignoring his nudity and the beads of sweat clinging to his body.

Sirius accepted the hug, and Harry ran a comforting hand down his bare back.

“I don’t know why I even care so much,” Sirius muttered in his ear. 

“He was your brother, of course you care,” Harry replied.

“He was a Death Eater,” Sirius snapped back, but clung onto Harry even tighter.

“He wasn’t a very good one,” Harry replied.

“What do you mean?” Sirius asked, looking up to meet his eyes.

Fuck the timeline, Harry could give him this. “He was a Death Eater, but he left, and left very bravely too. You would be proud of him.”

“Regulus wasn’t brave a day in his life,” Sirius protested. “Don’t coddle me, I’m not a child anymore.”

“He was very brave on the last days of his life, Sirius,” Harry insisted. “I promise he made a big move against Voldemort, even knowing he might not get credit for it.”

“Did Voldemort do it? Did he kill him?” Sirius asked quietly, hands balling into fists.

“His magic did,” Harry said truthfully, thinking of a dark cave and hundreds of inferi.

“Oh, Reggie,” Sirius whispered, and blinked back tears. 

A few escaped, and Harry wiped tears off Sirius’s cheekbones with the pad of his thumb.

Sirius barked out a laugh and pulled away from him. “Merlin, Harry, I feel more from your fingers touching my cheek than I did with those muggles touching me everywhere.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You should be,” Sirius said, voice shaking. “I don’t want to feel anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry repeated, carding his fingers through his hair. “You can let it out, you don't have to pretend to be okay with me, you'll feel better if you let it out.”

Sirius hid his face in Harry’s jumper, and a few moments later, started to sob, chest heaving with the force of it, his whole body shaking.

When the sobs had subsided, Harry summoned a glass and pour water into it for Sirius, and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” Sirius muttered after finishing the glass. “Guess I didn’t have a chance seducing you looking like this, eh?” 

His face was splotchy with tears and he smelled like a distillery and someone else’s sweat but he was still the most beautiful person Harry had ever seen.

In lieu of saying that, Harry just laughed, and Sirius started to laugh along with him, collapsing back on the bed.

Harry opened his mouth to say goodbye, but he didn’t have time. In the space of an instant, he was back outside the ministry with Ron.

“Where are your shoes at, mate?” Ron asked, grasping his arm.

“In 20 year old Sirius’s grotty flat,” Harry said, and he grabbed his head, feeling a splitting pain as a new memory forced its way into his mind. He remembered when Sirius told him about Regulus the first time, calling him a stupid idiot for joining the death eaters, but he remembered the conversation differently this time.

Sirius still called him a stupid idiot, but he looked proud even, said he was taken out by Voldemort and that he was glad his brother finally saw that he was on the wrong side.

Harry had done it. He had changed the past, even if only a little.

And the ministry was still standing.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry headed home, without his shoes.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had him on leave until he could stay in place for at least a week at a time. Hermione was elbows deep in research and so was half her department, but he didn’t feel like helping them find a cure.

He didn't want a cure. He just wanted to go home.

When Harry opened his front door, James and Al came running toward him, their little faces lit up with delight and squeals of ‘Daddy!’

“Hi there,” Harry said, scooping them both into his arms. “And how have Daddy’s favourite boys in the whole world behaved for Grandmummy?”

Molly Weasley came to the door to greet him. “They were perfect angels, of course.”

“Even this one, hmm?” Harry said lightly, ruffling James’s hair, making him giggle.

“Of course,” Molly protested. “He’s just a spirited little boy.”

Harry smiled, and put them down on the sofa. 

“You’re back early,” Molly commented.

“I’m on desk duty for the moment, and wanted to see my boys,” Harry said, not wanting to get into the details. “Did Gin say when she’d be back?”

“She said it’d be late, those Harpies push her so hard at practice, but it’s no bother watching these two,” Molly responded. 

“Thanks Molly,” Harry said, kissing her on the cheek. “Who wants to go to the park now that Daddy’s home?”

James and Al started jumping up and down again, flushed with excitement, and Harry helped them put on their autumn coats and shoes, before waving goodbye to Grandmum and walking down to the little magical park by their house.

Harry caught Al with his wand before he fell off the monkey bars, and pushed him and James down the slide before they wore themselves out.

They walked home, and he made them a chicken Molly had left cooking on the counter for dinner, and got them ready for bed.

He didn’t let himself think about Sirius or anything else, just trying to be the best Dad he could for them, until they were all washed up and tucked in bed.

Ginny was still at practice, but Harry couldn’t wait up for her. He just chucked off his clothes, and collapsed, emotionally and physically exhausted. 

He felt the mattress dip with her weight sometime later, and he forced himself to wake up to greet her.

“How was practice, Gin?” he said, his voice rough with sleep.

“Exhausting, our new beater can’t cover me properly yet,” Ginny complained. “Has anyone found a fix for you yet?”

“I remain unfixable,” Harry joked, but it fell flat.

“I’m sorry,” Ginny muttered. 

“At least I got to leave early, so I spent the afternoon at the park with the boys,” Harry replied. He wasn’t sorry.

“You travelled again then? Was Sirius still a kid?”

“Ah, no,” Harry replied. “He was grown, and had just lost his brother, he reminded me a bit of how George was, you know…”

“Losing a brother he barely liked doesn’t compare to losing a twin,” Ginny replied, her voice going a little hot with anger.

“Of course,” Harry replied. “I just meant he wasn’t coping well, it was a bad comparison,” he lied. But it wasn’t, George spent the first year without Fred self-medicating, before getting himself healthy with the help of his family.

“I just miss Fred, I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Ginny said with a yawn.

“It’s fine,” Harry said.

“Goodnight,” Ginny replied, her tone going a little sweeter, and Harry fell into a deep sleep. 

He was lost in a dream soon after. Nothing exciting, it was a standard, run of the mill anxiety dream where he had shown up to Transfiguration and not done his homework.

He was half the way through half-arsing an apology to McGonagall before he was immediately jolted awake by the pain of falling. It had become familiar now, he almost welcomed the sensation. He stopped struggling and braced for impact, managing to avoid hitting his head on a hardwood floor, but landing flat on his arse instead. 

He opened his eyes to his godfather trying his best not to laugh at him. 

And it was his godfather, Sirius looked just like he remembered before he died.

“Alright, laugh it up,” Harry said, as Sirius tried to gain his composure.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said insincerely, finally reaching out a hand to help Harry off the floor.

He took it, and immediately wrapped his arms around Sirius in a tight hug. Sirius squeezed back, holding him tightly, not letting him go for a good minute.

Sirius smelled a little like cleaning charms and firewhiskey, but it was comforting.

“Is it summer?” Harry asked.

Sirius nodded, and pulled out his wand, summoning a dressing gown for him.

Harry gestured to his bare chest and boxers that he slept in. “What, does this offend you?”

Sirius snorted, his eyes flicking over his torso for the briefest moment. “Offended isn’t the word I’d pick. Besides, haven’t you seen me in less? Back when I was also nice to look at.”

Harry nodded. “That was yesterday for me, and you’re still handsome, I don’t like to hear you talking about yourself like that.” He slipped on the maroon dressing gown, it smelled like Sirius.

Sirius blinked at him. “Yesterday? Merlin, that curse is all over the place, hmm?”

“It’s very strange,” Harry agreed. 

Sirius looked around and sighed. “And you’ve been _here_ before, right? I don’t have to explain Grimmauld Place?”

“I know where we are, and I’m sorry,” Harry replied, grabbing his shoulder.

“I hate this house,” Sirius said, sounding very much like the child he once was.

“I know you do,” Harry said. “Who else is here at the moment?”

“Besides me, Kreacher, and the portrait of that old hag? Moony’s downstairs, and the Weasleys are coming around tomorrow, so it’ll be a full house. Dumbledore has promised you can come later in the summer, does that actually happen, or is he just trying to make sure I don’t run away and drag you out of there myself?”

“He lets me, yeah,” Harry said, and then the force of what Sirius just says knocks into him like a bludger. “Sirius—you know who I am!”

“I have since a few days after you were born and your eyes went green, I’m actually not an idiot,” Sirius replied, surprisingly calm. “Harry, we had a blazing row about this, about your lying. And by the look on your face, that hasn’t happened yet, so will have a blazing row. Ugh, tenses.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Harry said wryly, making Sirius laugh for real.

“Time travel gives me a headache,” Sirius replied, directing Harry to sit down next to him on a 18th century sofa. “Do you want a drink?”

“Why not?” 

“That’s the spirit,” Sirius replied, as he poured Harry a finger of firewhiskey. 

Harry accepted the glass, their fingers brushing for a moment. He took a sip, and wished he could have done the same years ago, just sit in comfortable silence and have a drink with his godfather. 

“Did you forgive me, for lying to you?” Harry asked, the question spilling out of his mouth almost unintentionally. He felt childish asking. 

Sirius rolled his eyes, and re-filled their glasses to the top. “What kind of question is that, Harry? Of course I was angry with you for a while, I won’t act like I wasn’t. I had a lot of time to spend alone in Azkaban thinking about how angry I was, the dementors taking away all the times you brought me friendship and joy and leaving behind the half-truths, and well. Things I wanted from you that you couldn’t give me fully.”

Harry felt like a glass shard had gone through his heart.

“But once I got away from Azkaban, the good memories came back to me…and they were so good, Harry, and of course I forgave you. I hate that you keep secrets from me, but if the end game of all of it is you being here, nearly 30, _alive_ , so be it. I’d forgive nearly anything for that, so if you’re going apologise again, sod it, because the important thing is that you’re here,” Sirius confessed.

Harry took another sip of the firewhisky, trying to give himself a moment of composure. 

“I know he can’t hear me, but sometimes I speak to your Dad, tell James that you made it, that you’re alive, and so lovely and brave and kind, both as a teenager and as a grown man,” Sirius said to his glass. “Firewhiskey has me maudlin this afternoon, I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I still think about them too, I named my firstborn after the two of you, you know. James Sirius Potter.”

A smile like the sunrise broke out on Sirius’s face, for a moment he looked as young and handsome as he did at 20. “That’s wonderful, Harry.”

Sirius laughed, and pulled him in for another hug. “James Sirius Potter, what a name.”

“He is so much trouble already,” Harry confessed, and Sirius kept laughing, his whole body shaking with mirth.

“Of course he is with a name like that,” Sirius said, and Harry opened his mouth to reply, but grabbed his wand when the door swung open.

Remus Lupin was on the other side, eyes darting between him and Sirius. He looked dangerous, and held his wand up with purpose.

“I don’t appreciate you pointing that thing toward my godson,” Sirius said lightly, brushing back Harry’s fringe to show the scar.

“Your godson is in Surrey. Sirius, take a step away from it,” Remus warned.

“It is me, and I’m in Surrey too,” Harry explained badly.

“Sirius, there’s all sorts of creatures in this house, you shouldn’t listen to it, whatever promises it may have made you,” Remus protested.

“What is he, a reverse boggart?” Sirius joked, but instead of trying to convince Remus with his words, Harry just thought of a happy memory. He didn’t have to go far, the look of joy on Sirius’s face when he heard about his son was enough. He whispered ‘Expecto Patronum’, and Prongs came trotting out of his wand, bowing low to Sirius and Remus before darting around the room, looking for danger.

“Harry?” Remus asked. “How is it you?”

Teddy’s brow furrowed just like that when he was confused too. Harry had forgotten that about Remus, and had forgotten the exact shade of his eyes.

“I’m an Auror,” Harry explained. “I was chasing down a criminal, and may have been hit with a curse that they’re not entirely sure how to fix in the ministry, and long story short, I’m a bit out of my time.”

Remus sat down on an armchair across from them, and Sirius poured him a drink.

“And I assume from how calm Sirius looks, this isn’t the first time this has happened?” Remus asked, and Harry and Sirius both shook their heads.

“Right,” Remus responded. “Well, Harry, you’re looking very well, even in Sirius’s old dressing gown.”

Harry smiled. “It’s nice to see you, Professor.”

“I haven’t been your Professor in a long time, even longer for you, I expect,” Remus responded.

“You’re still the best Defense Professor we ever had,” Harry said.

Remus murmured a thanks.

Sirius looked over at his friend. “You’re being very good about this, Moony.”

“Me? Good about a curse that someone can’t help? I can’t imagine why,” Remus replied, his face blank.

The three of them all started to laugh.

“You know, I think this is the most laughter that’s ever been heard in this hellhole,” Sirius said.

“That may not be true, there could have been cries of evil laughter during the muggle torturing sessions in the 18th century,” Remus joked, making Sirius crack a smile again.

He had known Remus was funny of course, he was a marauder, but he had never seen much of it himself.

“You know, I would like it if you wrote me,” Harry said, in lieu of another joke. “Sirius does all the time, mostly about how I should keep my nose clean and hang in there, he knows I hate being trapped at the Dursleys, but you can write me too you know. I’m living for letters this summer, it’s the worst one of my life.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Remus said, his voice switching back to distant.

Sirius shoved him. “Use my bloody owl and send him a page or two with my next letter.”

Remus nodded, and Harry started to fade away again, falling back into bed and his own time.

He landed standing up, still in Sirius’s dressing gown, still smelling of him.

“Harry?” Ginny asked, waking up at once. “Everything alright?”

“I was just in the past again,” he confessed.

“Merlin’s balls, Harry,” Ginny swore, tucking him back in between the sheets. “This can’t last.”

“I know,” Harry lied, his head aching as he remembered being sent a book on the most famous duels in history. Remus sent it with a letter from Sirius, saying he hoped it would distract him from his thoughts, and that he hoped he would find it interesting.

He poured over every page that summer.

Harry felt like his head would split open again.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Ginny had gone to practice, and Harry was coaxing Al into finishing his banana porridge while James was trying very hard to pull the heads off one of his model quidditch models.

“Be nice to your toys,” Harry said, without effect, while he dodged a piece of banana Al threw on the ground.

Harry just laughed, and vanished it, and watched as the floo turned green. Hermione tumbled out of it a moment later, brushing soot off her robes.

Al waved to her, and James ran around to hug her. 

“Hello Potters,” Hermione said with a smile.

“Want porridge?” Al asked her, pushing a spoon over.

“That’s very kind, Albus, but I already ate,” Hermione replied. “Do you mind if I steal your Dad for a minute?”

“You can’t steal him, he’s ours,” James said, hand on his hips.

“That’s very literal,” Hermione said. “I just want to talk with him.”

James shrugged and went back to attempted decapitation of his figurines, as Hermione sat down at the far end of the table. Harry sat down next to her, but close enough to monitor any mischief his sons could get up to.

“When’s the last time you time-travelled, Harry?” Hermione asked, quills and parchment out.

“Last night, Sirius thought me landing on my bottom on the floor was a little hilarious,” Harry said, still in the dressing gown he had given him.

The corners of Hermione’s lips turned up. “And did he still think you were your own great-grandfather?”

Harry shook his head. “He knows it’s me.”

“I had thought he might figure it out,” Hermione murmured. “You do look remarkably like your parents. I think I know why it’s happening, the magic behind it.”

Harry gestured for her to go on.

“When the veil was blasted open, it still contained traces of the magic of the last living person to go through it. It’s searching for Sirius, to complete itself, but he’s not here, he’s moved on. Magic isn’t constrained to three dimensions like us. Sirius is still alive in the past, so it’s using your magic as a conduit to find him, dragging you out of time for a while instead,” Hermione explained.

“Okay. I’m a conduit, it’s searching for Sirius. Is there a way to stop it?” Harry asked. “Hermione, I can deal with the pain, but I don’t think I can keep seeing him and not want to save him.”

She grabbed his hand. “I haven’t figured it out yet, but will keep trying, I promise. In the meantime, it’s not a bad idea to keep your invisibility cloak on you at all times in case Sirius is with someone else that shouldn’t see you.”

Harry nodded, that was something he could do. “Remind me again why I can’t fix everything, Hermione. I need to hear it again.”

She tugged on her cloud of bushy hair. “Well, how would you do it? Do you have a plan worked out?”

“Not a plan as such, but I would tell Sirius about the horcruxes—where they are, how to destroy him—and then have him go to Dumbledore with all we know. If the three of us could manage it at 17, couldn’t Dumbledore and the Order do it with a little bit of extra help?” 

“It could work, maybe,” Hermione said, making him sit a little straighter in chair. “Or Voldemort finds out one of his horcruxes are destroyed before the order can get to all of them, and he makes another 7. Or he bests Dumbledore in a duel and now has the elder wand at his disposal.”

Harry’s blood felt cold.

“Or Harry, what’s just as likely, is that your plan works perfectly, but before Dumbledore can finish the job, there’s a battle at the Ministry, and maybe Mr. Weasley gets taken down by a Death Eater. Depending on what year it is, Ron and Ginny might never be born, and you’d come back to a world without James and Al and my Rose,” Hermione said, looking down at her belly. “And I only found out this week, but I’m pregnant again.”

Harry’s whole face transformed with joy, and he reached out and kiss her on the cheek. “That’s wonderful,” he said, meaning it.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, beaming. 

“I’ll try not to change anything,” Harry promised, as he got up to make her a cup of tea. “But please keep working on a solution. Going back to Hogwarts or Grimmauld Place or Sirius’s old flat is one thing, but he was in Azkaban for so long too…”

Hermione nodded, looking like she was about to cry. “I didn’t forget about that.”

“I know,” he replied, and went over to James, who had actually started crying. He had finally broken his own toy and was upset about it.

Harry made it right with a flick of his wand and a simple Reparo charm. If only everything was so easy.

The next evening, Harry felt his body shift into the past again, he struggled less against it, letting the magic of the veil find its final passenger. 

He was back in young Sirius’s tiny little flat, but he didn't have any company this time. 

The man himself was sitting behind a desk, eyes pouring over letters. He must have known Harry was there, but it took him a minute to look up. 

His brilliant gray eyes were impassive, giving away nothing. There were dark shadows under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for days, and he wanted to put a smile on that face so badly. 

His attraction to Sirius hit him in that moment like a bludger to the gut, it came from out of sight and struck him with such force. It was lust, but something fonder, something familiar and wonderful.

Harry tried to nudge the feeling back down and took a step closer to Sirius. “Are you alright? What’s happened?”

“Kind of you to drop in, but I wish you would learn to knock,” Sirius replied, his diction going posher.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Harry muttered, going close enough so he could see what Sirius was looking at. It was just old letters. “Can I help?”

“You can, but you won’t,” Sirius snapped. 

“You’re going to have to explain that one to me, Padfoot,” Harry said, his tone a little gentler.

“I saw Benjy Fenwick’s body blasted to bits. There’s a traitor in the order, you see? Someone working for _him_ ,” Sirius spat the last word out. “And now I’m pouring through letters from Remus, trying to figure out what he knows and who he could have told and what made him hate us, if he is the traitor, you see.”

Harry felt bile rise in his stomach. He could walk to his death, but he didn’t think he could do this, do nothing in the face of a mistake that cost his parents their lives and Sirius his youth and freedom.

“If only I had a friend, if I can even use that word, who was from the future. Who knows things. Who told me at 10 that I’m going to make great friends in Gryffindor House and against all evidence, promises me that my brother died a hero in the end. If only I had a friend who might already know who the traitor is, that could help me,” Sirius said, standing up and challenging Harry.

Harry always chose fight over flight, but this time he turned on his heels, and headed for the door, he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t be here, he wouldn’t say a word condemning Remus.

Sirius just laughed, and barricaded the door with a spell before he could get there.

The handle was boiling, giving off steam, and a simple unlocking spell was failing.

“Let me out, or I’ll blast my way out,” Harry warned, his voice shaking.

Sirius grabbed his shoulders. “Who is it? You have to tell me!”

“Sirius, darling,” Harry pleaded. “What happens to my soul if I fix everything for us and damn the entire world?”

Sirius didn’t let go. “Explain yourself.”

“He’s stopped…for a while, soon. Voldemort. The costs for us are so fucking high, Padfoot, but how many more Benjy Fenwicks will we have if we don’t bear them? If he takes over the ministry while we’re safe? Part of me would be happy to see everything burn for the people I love, what kind of person does that make me?” Harry finished, his wand arm shaking. A framed photo of the Marauders fell off the wall, the glass cracked.

Sirius’s hands moved to his face as his magic crackled in the air, the letters on the desk scattering all around them like a tornado.

“Your magic is intoxicating, but unless you’re planning on hanging around long enough to fix my flat, rein it in, the floors are vibrating,” Sirius said, sounding equal parts thrilled and afraid. “Breathe, Harry.”

Harry closed his eyes and started counting to ten, the way the mind-healer he spoke to after the war taught him. When he got to five, the building had stopped moving, and at eight, he felt Sirius’s hand curl around the base of his neck, and the hot, insistent press of his mouth against his.

Harry kept his eyes shut and kissed back, opening his lips, letting Sirius in. It was soft at first, but shortly became as heated as the rest of their conversation. As Harry felt himself grow hard and heavy and nearly-dizzy with want, he pulled away.

Sirius was beautiful, his face flushed with arousal, his lips bitten. Harry wanted him so much, wanted to strip him bare and watch him come undone underneath his hands and mouth.

“I’m married,” Harry said eventually, feeling the shame rise in him.

“You’re thirteen months old and can say three words,” Sirius muttered.

“I can’t,” Harry protested.

“Another fucking thing Harry James Potter can’t do, what a surprise,” Sirius said, unkindly. 

“I deserved that, maybe,” Harry replied. 

Sirius threw his hands up in the air. “I’ve wanted you for as long as I’ve wanted anybody, and it looks like you want me too.”

“Want is not the problem,” Harry replied.

“No. You are,” Sirius replied, folding his arms across his chest.

“I’m so sorry that I can’t make love to you, but can I hold you instead?” Harry asked, his palms itching, wanting to feel Sirius’s heartbeat and warm body next to him.

“Make love,” Sirius scoffed, but headed off in the direction of his bedroom. Harry followed on his heels.

“It’d be more than fucking, wouldn’t it? It would be for me,” Harry said quietly.

Sirius nodded, and collapsed on top of his duvet, pulling his shirt over his head but leaving his trousers on.

Harry left his shoes on this time, and spooned himself behind Sirius, his right arm over his chest, his palm resting over his heart. He could feel his heart-beat too quickly, until Sirius relaxed in his arms. He grabbed his hand, interlocking their fingers. It wasn’t enough, not nearly. 

“I hope one day you can forgive me,” Harry begged him, as he felt himself start to leave. Sirius said nothing at all while he left.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Please note the tags. xx

Harry opened his eyes. But he wasn’t home. He back at Grimmauld Place, in Sirius’s room. The ridiculous posters of bikini-clad muggle women had been spelled up, fairly recently by the looks of it.

Sirius was in bed, lying on his stomach. Criss-crossed wounds marked up the pale skin on his back. The flaying curse’s work. He’d seen it before—it was a particular favourite of Mulciber. And it wouldn’t close properly without being healed---the dark magic would make reopen again and again just when the victim thought they were in the clear.

“Merlin, Sirius,” Harry muttered, taking a step closer to him.

Sirius blinked his grey eyes open, shining with the light of unshed tears. “It’s not a great time now for a visit Harry, can you come back later?”

“I’ll just leave through the front door, yeah? Maybe have a little chat with your Mum about what she did to you. It was her, right?” Harry said, brandishing his wand and pointing at his back.

“Course,” Sirius muttered. 

“If I heal you, will she just do it again?” Harry asked, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“I don’t think so, she’s not even here. She’s away for a few nights visiting my Aunt, she’ll probably just think that I broke down and asked Reggie and Kreacher for help, but I would honestly rather die,” Sirius replied.

“Don’t say that,” Harry said, rubbing at his eyes. “People would miss you.”

Sirius shrugged, but cried out in pain when his shoulders moved.

“Right,” Harry said, holding his wand out. “No time like the present then. Can I start drawing the dark magic out of the wounds and heal you?”

“Will you have to touch me?” Sirius asked, looking down at the sheets.

He shook his head.

“Fine then,” Sirius agreed, turning a funny colour.

“This might hurt a little, I’m so sorry,” Harry said, before cleaning the wound.

It was a battle between the power inside him and the raw energy of the curse. Walburga’s spell didn’t stand a chance. Within a matter of moments, he had drained it of its power, the curse was gone entirely.

Sirius was biting his lip so hard he had drawn blood, but didn’t cry out in pain once.

“You’ve been very brave, but the worst part is over,” Harry said as he muttered a simple healing charm he learned in Auror training to close the wound fully, and another one on top of it to numb the pain.

“You’ve done it! It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Sirius said, giving him a wide grin. 

“You’re welcome,” Harry said, sitting down on the bed next to him. 

“You didn’t ask what I did to deserve this,” Sirius said, gesturing to his back.

“Nothing you did would make you deserve that, you’re a child,” Harry said.

“I’m 15,” Sirius snapped back.

“Like I said,” Harry replied. 

Sirius rolled his eyes, proving his point. “I didn’t make prefect.”

Harry nodded. “I think McGonagall has your number, mate.”

Sirius laughed. “Yeah, she’d have to be taking some heavy potions to give me that kind of responsibility. When I didn’t get the badge, and a half-blood got it instead, Mum went a bit off. She probably would have killed me if she knew it went to a _werewolf_.”

“You know you didn’t deserve this punishment, right?” Harry said. 

Sirius sighed. “I’ve been around normal families like the Potters enough to know that getting your broom taken away or getting grounded for a week is a punishment, not dark curses. I’m a Black, though.”

Harry nodded. He understood, how could he not? Normal children didn’t grow up in boot cupboards either. But he couldn’t explain that to Sirius.

Harry held his right hand up to Sirius instead. “Do you see the scar?”

Sirius nodded, gray eyes going dark. “I must not tell lies. Did you write that yourself?”

“It was a punishment, from an awful teacher in my fifth year on a power trip. She thought I was a liar, I wasn’t.”

“And she made you use a blood quill,” Sirius finished. “Right, is she alive, can we kill her?”

“She got what was coming to her in the end,” Harry replied. And she did. A pureblood whose muggle-born partner Umbridge had locked up had sent her a cursed necklace in the mail. She died slowly.

“It’s still shite,” Sirius responded. “Hey, do you have the cloak on you now?”

“Yeah, why?” 

“Want to sneak out of here or pretend to be ghosts and terrify Reggie and Kreacher?” 

Harry snorted, before doubling over in pain. A new memory was entering his mind.

_Before he headed off to the Hogwarts Express for his fifth year, Sirius had handed him a little package._

_“What’s this? Doesn’t look like a broomstick?” Harry joked, examining the box._

_Sirius looked pained. “It’s numbing cream and highly concentrated essence of dittany. You always tend to get hurt somehow during term, and I don’t want you developing any new scars. If you put the dittany concentration on after something happens, it’ll clear anything right up and the numbing cream pretty much is what it says on the tin.”_

_“Right,” he replied. “Won’t Madam Pompfrey have this?”_

_“Probably not the same quality, Hogwarts mass-buys the stuff,” Sirius said. “Take care of yourself, kid,” he continued, wrapping Harry in a fierce hug._

When he looked back at his hand, the scar was much more faint.

Harry blinked back at Sirius, before his body started to jump out of time again. He waved goodbye, before finally appearing back at his own home. 

He padded down the stairs, Ginny was in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of Chilean elf-made red wine after practice.

“Alright Gin?” 

She shook her head, and filled up her wine glass even further.

“No, I don’t think I am either,” Harry confessed, getting a glass for himself.

“Is it Sirius again?” Ginny asked.

He nodded. “How about you?”

“It’s just team stuff,” she said, her face going a little red to match her hair. “Just Quidditch problems. Nothing like time travel.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear about it,” Harry replied.

She shook her head. “It’s fine. Where were you?”

“1981 at one point, which was terrible,” Harry admitted.

“You were alive,” she pointed out. “Merlin, I was too, for part of the year at least.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “And my parents still were for most of the year, and Sirius hadn’t been framed by Pettigrew yet. He goes to Azkaban in November, you see.”

Ginny squeezed his hand in comfort, her big brown very wide.

Harry didn’t mean to confess, but the words just kept spilling out of him. “And Ginny…we had a row, Sirius and I. And at the end of it, Sirius kissed me.”

She took a long sip of her wine before replying. “When?”

“In 1981, like I said,” Harry replied.

“Did you kiss him back?”

He nodded.

“That’s all that happened?”

Harry nodded again, and nervously rapped his fingers on the table.

“Okay,” Ginny said eventually. “And do you want to again? Kiss him, I mean. You obviously want to see him.”

“I love you, and our boys so much,” he said instead.

She snorted. “That sounds like a yes to me.”

“It’s a yes, but I’m not a cheater, Gin, I couldn’t do that to you.” Harry replied, his voice a little louder.

“Alright,” she replied. 

“How are you being so calm right now?” he asked, half-expecting bat bogeys to start coming out of his nose at any minute.

“Because part of the reason I’ve been coming home from practice so angry is that I’ve developed a horrible crush on our captain and I think I’d play better if I just tackled her against the wall and snogged our problems away instead,” Ginny admitted.

“Oh,” Harry replied.

“Are you jealous?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“Me too,” she replied. “But I feel more shite because I’m jealous of your dead godfather who we named our son after.”

Harry laughed at the situation despite himself, and Ginny started giggling as well.

She recovered her senses first. “Do you think we can see other people and stay together? Is it possible to love more than one person?”

Harry felt like his whole life was hanging in the balance to these two questions. “I do think it’s possible, yeah. And can we try that? If we’re honest with each other, I mean.”

“I don’t know if I’d want to hear or share the dirty details,” Ginny confessed.

“I’m not saying that,” Harry replied. “Just…be honest about the person? People? We’re seeing.”

Ginny nodded. “Okay, Harry. And can we not tell Ron or my Mum about it? I would never hear the end of it.”

“Agreed,” Harry said. “We are both being more grown-up about this than I would have expected.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. Plus, I expect I’m too tired from doing six hours of chaser drills without a break and you’re too exhausted from falling through space and time and snogging your godfather to have any sort of proper row about this. We’ve fallen straight into sensible instead.”

Harry didn’t give her the laugh she probably wanted. 

It’s not that he just wanted to snog Sirius, he wanted to have dinner with him too and have him meet his kids and take them to the park and see what he looked like in the cauldron black pre-dawn, watch the morning light paint the angles of his face.

He wanted everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments and kudos I've received are everything. Feel free to ask any questions in the comments, I'll answer. And hope you had a very lovely festive period.  
> x


	6. Chapter 6

Harry didn’t have to wait long to see Sirius again.

He had been thinking about him non-stop, now that he was allowed to think about him without wrecking his life. It felt selfish to want something this much.

He was clutching the emergency rucksack that Hermione sent over with a blanket, food, water bottles and muggle money from the 60s and a few galleons. 

Harry had put his invisibility cloak in it and felt a wave of gratitude for his friend. She had really thought of everything, except how to make the time jumps stop. And he was glad for that. He was lost in his musings when the feeling of the veil started to fire back up inside of his marrow and magic, hurtling his body through time and space.

Harry knew where he was instantly. 

The cold air, salt of the sea and the overwhelming feeling of desperation that clung to walls gave it away.

Azkaban.

Harry felt faint, but draped the invisibility cloak around him in a flash. It wouldn’t fool the dementors if they came in the cell, but it would protect against the human guards who could walk down the halls.

He searched for Sirius, and found Padfoot. He was in the corner, curled up and looking beat down. His fur was mangled and dirty and he was so thin, such a far cry from the teenage Padfoot who had raced him out of Hogwarts secret passageways, with silky fur and mischief in his eyes.

Harry took a shaky step toward him. “It’s me, Sirius. I’m here.”

The dog shook his head, and curled up even smaller, putting a paw over his eyes.

Harry walked closer to him, and stuck out his hand from the invisibility cloak, tentatively petting Padfoot behind his ears. 

He did it with such care and so slowly to avoid pulling at the tangles on his fur.

Padfoot let out a quiet, mournful little bark.

“I know,” Harry agreed. “It’s so horrible here, Sirius. You don’t deserve this. You shouldn’t be here.” 

At that, Padfoot transformed back into a man. He looked even more miserable and gaunt as himself. 

Harry wanted to feed him, get him a shower and a haircut and wrap him a fuzzy towel far away from this place, it hurt to see him like this. He had seen him like this before of course, when he was 13, but he didn’t love him then. 

“Harry, are you really here?” Sirius rasped, his voice dusty from disuse. “I hear you sometimes, we speak, but it usually ends with you telling me to jump in the North Sea for what I did to your parents.”

“Sirius, no. I’ve never blamed you once I knew the full story. It’s Wormtail’s fault—and Voldemort’s. Not yours,” Harry said firmly.

Sirius laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. 

Harry felt lost for words, and scrambled in his rucksack, coming back with a banana, granola bar and a bottle of water, and handed them to Sirius. “Eat. Please. It’s not much, but please have it.”

Sirius looked at it for a moment, before devouring it like the starving man he was, it was gone in a moment. “Thank you,” he rasped and reached out in the direction Harry was in. “I know I can’t see you because you’re wearing your father’s cloak,” he said, stumbling over the word. “But can you just show me your face one last time?”

Harry pulled his hood down, letting Sirius see him.

Sirius looked at him like a man in the desert would look at water, and Harry walked over to him and without hesitating, wrapped his arms around him in a fierce hug. Sirius was trembling and it wasn’t pleasant, he smelled something awful, but the love he had for him was so much stronger than his discomfort.

Sirius started to shake even harder, and Harry struggled to keep him upright.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Harry whispered.

Sirius didn’t let go. “I’m sorry. It’s been so long since anyone touched me,” he replied. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Harry said fiercely. “You’re innocent, everyone who put you here should be sorry.”

Sirius nodded.

And Harry couldn’t help himself, he kept talking, lost in his righteous anger for his touch-starved and starving godfather. “And you can get out, you know that right? You’ll figure it out at some point but Padfoot is thin enough to get through those bars and swim to freedom.”

Sirius said nothing for a moment. “It’s crossed my mind, but where will I go? You’re not here, everyone I love is dead or thinks me a traitor.”

“I am here, Padfoot,” Harry reminded him. “Just smaller and depending on what year it is, I’m all alone too.”

“What?”

“I was raised with as much love from my Aunt and Uncle as you were from your mum,” Harry said quietly.

At this, Sirius carefully untangled himself from him. “Oh, Harry,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Harry couldn’t believe that he was now the one receiving comfort from a Prisoner of Azkaban. “Don’t be sorry. I don’t blame you.”

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but Harry’s head was starting to throb with pain.

He grabbed ahold of his rucksack and collapsed, this jump back to the present was a hundred times worse than the last.

He landed on his bedroom floor and clutched his head as years of new memories flooded painfully into his mind. But it wasn’t one conversation, it was thousands, millions of them filled with joy and hope and loss and sorrow. It wasn’t a pebble making ripples across the timeline, it was a fucking boulder.

_Harry was nine and ran after a big black dog who had stolen his maths textbook. Dudley was laughing as he escaped from view. Behind Wisteria Walk, the dog changed into a man, gaunt and wearing muggle clothes that hung off of him._

_His eyes were kind though and he smiled at Harry. People didn’t do that much._

_“Hi, Harry,” the man said. “I’m your godfather, Sirius. And I’d like it very much if you’d come to live with me.”_

_“You’re that escaped prisoner!” Harry said, turning to run._

_Sirius nodded._

_“And you were just a dog.”_

_“I’m a wizard—just like you and your Dad was,” Sirius replied, bending down. “I was in jail, but I didn’t do it Harry. I’m innocent. You're very important to me. I broke out because I want to protect you.”_

_“My Uncle’s too slow to catch me most of the time,” he blustered. “And what do you mean by a wizard, sir?”_

_“We’re magical,” he said. “I can explain more, but you’re so special Harry.”_

_He didn’t quite believe it, but he just turned into a man from being a dog, so maybe he wasn’t lying. “And you’re my godfather?”_

_The man nodded. “Your parents were my best friends in the world and they loved you so much. I’m sorry I couldn’t escape earlier, but a smart man gave me the nudge I needed to come take care of you.”_

_“You’ll take me away from the Dursleys?” Harry asked, bouncing up and down on his heels._

_“If you want,” Sirius replied._

_Harry nodded, and Sirius produced a portkey, and the two of them left Privet Drive and England, going somewhere the Aurors wouldn’t find them._  
.  
And they didn’t, not for a while.

The portkey went to Spain and the pair of them lived in Mallorca in his Uncle’s Alphards House. Living with Sirius was like a dream for his 9-year old self. They’d wake up and Sirius would cook for him and he could eat as much as he wanted until he was full! After, they’d spend the morning learning about magic and practicing writing with quills and doing sums.

In the afternoon, he’d learn to swim in the sea or play football with the muggle boys down in the town. People wanted to be his friend without Dudley there to chase them away.

He felt loved and safe and deliriously happy, even though Sirius would sometimes get sad or wakeup in the middle of the night shouting about his parents.

Harry felt like part of the world and precious, like he was something that mattered. Not for being the boy who lived, but for just being Harry. He never felt like that. 

In the present, he dug his nails into his arm to dull the pain. He remembered Sirius cleaning up a cut he got playing football and getting him a glass of water when he woke up after a nightmare. But he remembered Aunt Petunia swinging a frying pan at his head and being locked up in his cupboard without meals and the gnawing pain of hunger and loneliness.

They were both real.

And Harry cried out when he remembered losing Sirius again. Sirius couldn’t bear to let him go to Hogwarts without saying goodbye, so a big black dog accompanied Harry to Platform 9 3/4. But the secret had got out, so Dumbledore was waiting for them, and handed Sirius over to the ministry.

In lieu of a trial or getting sent back to Azkaban, Cornelius Fudge sentenced Sirius to be tossed in the veil of death.

His first months at Hogwarts were filled with anger and grief instead of wonder and joy. He had someone who loved him only to have the wizarding world take him away. Hogwarts wasn’t home, Sirius’s cottage was.

He had to see the Dursleys again that summer.

Harry pulled himself off the floor, he had as good as killed his godfather in two timelines, and for what?

For two years of love and safety and having someone responsible for him who valued his life over all things? Sirius was still dead.

He ran out of his room and checked in on the boys—what if he had ruined this as well?

But he hadn’t. James was sleeping, snoring softly under his snitch-covered duvet.

In the next room over, his sensitive little boy Al was still awake, his arms curled around his knees.

“Hi Daddy,” Al said. “I can’t sleep.”

“Hi Al, do you want me to check under the bed for monsters for you?” Harry said, making sure his voice didn’t shake.

“Who’s Al?”

“Is it you, hmm?” Harry said, reaching out to tickle him.

“I’m called Gideon,” Al said, glaring at him.

“Of course you are,” Harry replied, remembering more and more with every passing second.

Albus Dumbledore had captured his godfather at Kings Cross and wouldn’t believe Harry’s protestations about his innocence until it was too late. Why would he name his son after him? Ginny named him after one of her uncles who she never met.

“You look funny Daddy,” his son in any universe replied.

“I’ve had a really hard day,” Harry said, before theatrically checking under the bed for monsters. “All free of creatures, baby.”

“Thanks Daddy,” Al or Gideon said sweetly. “Can I give you a hug to make you feel better?”

“I think that would help,” Harry said, touched by his son’s kindness. He kissed him on the top of his head and gave him a big hug. "Daddy loves you whatever your name is, you silly boy."

Al laughed. "Love you too Daddy."

Harry kept it together for his son, before running downstairs to the floo, feeling the shame rise in him with each passing second.

“Hermione Granger’s house,” he called out. 

“Hi Harry,” she said, after a moment, dressed in her nightgown.

“We’re still friends,” Harry confirmed, two sets of memories in his mind now.

“Of course,” Hermione said. 

Harry went to ask a question he was sure he already knew the answer to. “Who was our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor in our third year?”

“Did you hit your head?” Hermione asked.

“Just answer the question, please.”

“Kingsley Shacklebolt,” Hermione answered.

Harry nodded. With Sirius out of the picture, why would Dumbledore hire a werewolf? He wondered if Remus was even alive, he had no memory of him in this timeline.

Or Teddy.

His heart sunk even further with guilt and grief.

His bright, talented, wonderful little godson didn’t exist, how could he if Remus wasn’t part of the Order with Tonks. 

He had done this. All because he couldn’t stand to see Sirius in Azkaban. It was on him. Harry started to tremble.

“What did you do in the past?” Hermione asked, narrowing her big brown eyes at him. 

“Come over, please,” Harry pleaded. “I’ve made a big mistake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy to answer any questions in the comments, I know this is a lot. See the tags, there is an eventual happy ending on this!


	7. Chapter 7

Harry sat down Hermione in the kitchen, busying himself by magicking them up some tea. His hands wouldn't stop shaking and still felt so cold from Azkaban.

“I have an educated guess, but what’s this about, Harry?” Hermione asked after the silence stretched too long.

“What do you remember about what’s happening to me?”

“It’s like you have a broken time-turner attached to your godfather’s life, and I haven’t been able to fix it yet,” Hermione said. “But what mistake did you make?”

Harry felt ill. “I changed the timeline when I visited him at Azkaban. You warned me and Ron warned me and Ginny warned me to not change anything but I was at Azkaban with him and felt like hopeless and I didn’t want Sirius to keep feeling like that for years more when he didn't have to.”

“So you broke him out?” Hermione asked, face paling.

Harry shook his head. “I gave him a nudge to break himself out, four years earlier.”

Hermione tugged at her hair. “So in your original timeline, he never took you from The Dursleys? You didn’t learn about magic and Hogwarts and what happened to your parents from Sirius Black?”

“No, I was very alone and knew nothing about our world until I got my Hogwarts letter,” Harry admitted.

“Oh,” Hermione said, reaching out to grab his hand. “Harry—I’m not sorry you had someone who cared about you before us. But what did you do to the timeline?”

“I don’t know, exactly. I have two sets of memories swirling around in my head. Obviously, Voldemort’s gone, so at the very least I haven’t damned the entire world.”

Hermione nodded. “It’s the only timeline I know Harry, but the world has been rid of him since May of what would have been our seventh year.”

Harry felt relief at that at least. “But how can I undo what I did? I can't have taken years away from Sirius like that. Can we get a time-turner? Can I tell myself not to talk to him at Azkaban about escaping?”

“It’s very risky to talk to yourself—you could go mad!”

“I feel close to mad already! There has to be a way,” Harry pleaded.

“Time magic is very temperamental and there’s no guarantee if you try and fix it, you won’t make everything worse.”

“Remus had a son,” Harry replied. “He’s my godson and he’s not here. I’ve as good as killed him.”

“No you haven’t, he wasn’t born, that’s not how any of this works” Hermione replied, exasperated. “But there might be a way, Harry...”

“What can I do?”

“If you’re still traveling, you can implant a suggestion…or memory in Sirius, that will wipe the conversation you had in Azkaban away. It’ll be like a dream to him, and if anything was happy…the Dementors could take it away.”

“Will it hurt him?” Harry replied.

“Yes,” Hermione admitted. “And you can’t tell him why you’re doing it or else you’d have to obliviate him and start over.”

“Is there another way?”

“I suppose you can give yourself a letter asking you not to do this…with Sirius as the messenger. If you see Sirius at some point in the past and know you’ll see him soon after, because it’s already happened. Does that make sense?”

“It does, in a strange kind of way. I know I saw him just after his brother died, those times are fixed."

“But Harry, just because you can do it, doesn’t mean you should. The past is the past, even though you’ve just massively changed your life.”

“And taken 4 years of my godfather’s life away! And Merlin knows what happened to Remus Lupin. Do you know what happened to him?” 

Hermione nodded. “A little of it, yes.”

“Tell me, please” Harry begged, fearing the worst.

“I looked him up after we became friends of course, and you told me a little about your life with Sirius. Remus told Dumbledore and the DMLE about Sirius becoming an Animagus, I expect he thought he was helping to save your life. I don’t know what he did exactly following Sirius’s death, but he stopped by The Burrow summer after third year…”

“The Weasleys all still went to Egypt then and were photographed with that rat,” Harry said, putting the dots together.

“Right, and he captured Peter Pettigrew and he killed him in the Ministry of Magic in front of witnesses, saying it was atonement for believing Sirius guilty of his crimes. The whole thing was quite hush-hush, but he was sentenced to Azkaban and was broken out with the rest of the Prisoners when Voldemort came to power. I’m not sure what happened to him later, he could be alive. Werewolves are tough.”

Harry could picture it and his heart broke. Remus, the last of the Marauders, avenging James and Sirius. How alone and guilt-ridden Moony must have felt. Transforming monthly behind bars in Azkaban, only to be broken out by Voldemort’s hand.

“What happened in your original timeline then?” Hermione asked.

Harry spoke quietly. “He was our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor in third year, and he died in the Battle of Hogwarts with his wife, Nymphadora Tonks.”

“I’m not sure I recognise the name, but I think she was in the Order,” Hermione admitted. 

“Think of how I feel,” Harry muttered. “Tonks is now a colleague of mine in the Auror department,” Harry said, a memory of her speaking to him bludgeoning its way into his mind.

“Oh Merlin, she’s alive. Bellatrix just toyed with her to begin with instead of outright killing her as she never had a child of a werewolf.”

_  
“Wotcher, Harry,” Tonks said, coming over to sit next to him. “I’m Tonks, I don’t know if you remember me, I was one of the people who came around to get you out of Privet Drive during the war.”_

_“I remember,” Harry said. “Ehm, thank you.”_

_She shrugged. “Not a bother, mate. Just thought I’d say welcome to the Aurors.”_

_“Thanks,” Harry smiled at her._

_“I’m not sure if you know this, but I’m related to your godfather, my mum was his first cousin,” she explained._

_Harry did know that, he read everything to do with him after he died and saw the name Andromeda blasted off the tapestry at Grimmauld Place when he was hunting for horcruxes. “Sirius was innocent, you know.”_

_Tonks nodded. “I read the file on Pettigrew after I joined the Aurors. I agree that he was framed.”_

_“He’s been pardoned too,” Harry said bitterly. It came years too late._

_“I know. I remember him from when he visited me when I was little. I thought he was so cool,” Tonks continued blithely on, unaware of how uncomfortable he was._

_Harry nodded, and Tonks screwed up her face, and a second later, a younger version of Sirius was looking at him, without the lines on his face from Azkaban._

_It was too much, he couldn’t bear to look at him, not now after so long. And her imitation was nothing like the real thing. Sirius had never looked at him like Tonks was looking at him, like he was a stranger. Sirius’s gray eyes sparkled with mischief and kindness. But he hadn't looked at Harry in so long._

_“Stop,” Harry barked out. “Change back, _please_.”_

_Tonks did immediately, and shifted, looking guilty. “I’m sorry. I make my face look like my Dad’s sometimes when I miss him but I know that everyone probably doesn’t feel the same way.”_

_“Don't worry about it,” Harry said, wanting the conversation over as quickly as possible._

“Lost in thought, Harry?” Hermione asked, bringing him back to the present.

“If I change this, I’ll kill her and Remus. If I don't, Teddy--their son and my godson--is still gone,” Harry said quietly.

“I’ll keep researching Harry—but there’s not a lot on the veil that’s out there.”

“Blasted veil of death,” Harry muttered, and Hermione perked up.

“Veil of _death_ ,” she repeated. “Harry, you’re the master of death.”

“I don’t carry the wand,” he reminded her. “And I don’t want to use the stone to bring Sirius back, I don’t want a shade of him.”

She shook her head. “No, no, that’s not it. If you get close to the veil with Sirius, on the day he died, you might be able to command the veil to release its hold on him and take Sirius back to the present with you. If the veil never gets a taste of Sirius's magic then it won’t keep searching for him.”

“How do I do that?” Harry asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“I don’t know, it’s just a theory, but perhaps sheer magical will and making sure you have at least one of the Hallows on you.”

“You are a genius, Hermione,” Harry replied, making her smile. “I’m so glad I didn’t lose you.”

“There’s no guarantee it’ll work,” she warned, yawning. “Or that you’ll be taken to the day he died. Maybe concentrate and think about it when you’re travelling, but it might take a few tries. Or a hundred.”

“And I’ll have Sirius back and stop falling into the past?”

“This has never happened before—or you could both die,” Hermione said, a little sharper than before. “I’m sorry, Harry. It’s just that anything could happen here.”

“It’s alright,” he said, but it really wasn’t. He looked down at his hand, and realised that he was shaking.

Hermione noticed, and started rummaging in his cupboards, coming back with a bar of chocolate. “Eat, Harry. When did you come back from Azkaban?”

“Twenty minutes ago maybe, I just made sure my boys were still here then I firecalled you,” Harry admitted, shoving some of the chocolate in his mouth.

“You have to take care of yourself Harry,” she reminded him.

He shrugged. “I think I’m going to go to sleep.”

“Good, don’t make any decisions now,” Hermione said. “And I’m sorry you have to feel like the fate of the world is on your shoulders again.”

“Isn’t it though?” Harry asked, feeling miserable. 

He hugged Hermione goodnight and collapsed in bed, falling asleep soon after.

He dreamed of Sirius at 20, heartbroken over his brother and handsome and hedonistic, Sirius at 21, so worried about his parents and the world, Sirius at 29 in Azkaban, broken and alone, Sirius in Grimmauld Place with the Order, trapped and angry.

He dreamed of the enormous loss of losing him to the veil the first time and 15, and again at 11, screaming at Platform 9 ¾ as the Headmaster stunned Padfoot and took him away, riding the Hogwarts Express terrified about what would happen to the man who saved him from the Dursleys and told him he was loved.

He woke up to Ginny cradling him tight and running her hands through his hair like he was a little child.

“Shh Harry, it’s alright,” she said kindly. “It’s just a nightmare.”

“It’s not though,” he rasped out. “It all happened or it will happen again.”

“You’ll find a way to fix it, you always do,” she said gently, and handed him a dreamless sleep potion.

He took it immediately, surrendering to the world of peaceful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry in advance about this chapter. Hope you're still enjoying this as it gets closer to a resolution.
> 
> Thanks so much for all the comments and kudos so far, really means a lot.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry woke up feeling like he didn’t sleep at all. He hadn't felt so low since he was wearing Voldemort's locket and on the run. 

He took a quick shower and dressed quickly, not wanting to time travel naked if he didn’t have to.

He re-packed his rucksack and clung onto it, pausing to eat breakfast before thinking back on Hermione’s words.

If he was the master of death, then could he master the veil, force the magic to do his bidding? Was the magic inside his marrow and soul really stronger?

Harry closed his eyes and said Sirius’s name three times, like a mantra. _Sirius, Sirius, Sirius_ , he could save him now that he knew it was possible. He as good as killed him in two timelines, this time he had to believe he could save his life instead. 

It worked, he started to seize up in pain, his kitchen faded from view, and for a moment all he could see was darkness as he fell.

Harry landed at Sirius’s flat, it smelled like clove cigarettes and stale beer, but thankfully, Sirius was alone this time.

He was beautiful and young and _healthy_ , and Harry felt anger at all Azkaban had took from his godfather.

Sirius’s eyes flickered up toward him and he smiled, baring his teeth. “Harry James Potter, how nice to see you.”

Harry took a step closer to him. “What’s wrong?”

Sirius laughed, but it was cruel and false and reminded him of what he saw in Snape’s pensive. “You tell me, Harry. Go on, figure it out.”

“I can guess, but I generally don’t have all day, so please just tell me,” Harry responded, trying and failing to keep calm. Sirius had never looked at him quite so unkindly. 

“Fine,” Sirius snapped. “I went to visit my godson today. I bought him some more plushies, got some Stags and a little Padfoot custom made, you see?”

Harry nodded, finally figuring out where this was going.

“He’s so much bigger than the last time I saw him, he’s six months or so now, I was away for a bit on an order mission. And when I picked him up, I noticed his eyes aren’t blue anymore, they’re green just like his mums and he’s starting to look so like his Dad instead of a general baby shaped little squishy blob and I nearly dropped _you_ when I put it all together,” Sirius said, taking another swig of his beer.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Harry replied.

“Do you think I’m thick?” Sirius yelled, slamming his beer bottle down on the table with force.

“Of course not,” Harry said, moving to sit next to him on the couch. Sirius got to his feet instead and loomed over him.

“You’re my godson,” Sirius carried on.

Harry nodded. “I am.”

“At least you’re admitting it now! What a very funny prank this must have been to you. Did you laugh about it with Prongs? Old Uncle Padfoot thinks I’m my own great-grandfather, what a lark,” Sirius accused, his hands balling up in fists. 

“Sirius, no!” Harry said louder. “Nothing about this has been a joke.”

Sirius laughed again, sounding broken. “Me fancying my grown-up godson since I was old enough to fancy _anyone_ is a little funny, no?”

“You’re not a joke, this isn’t funny at all,” Harry said firmly, standing up and gripping Sirius’s shoulders.

“Get your hands off me,” Sirius cried out, and Harry dropped them but didn’t move away.

“I didn’t tell you because I couldn’t, darling. Everyone keeps telling me how dangerous time magic is—and I’ve seen that for myself! I didn’t choose this!” Harry said firmly. 

“Of course you wouldn’t choose to keep spending time with me,” Sirius said, jumping face-first to the wrong conclusion, as usual.

“That’s not it at all! I always want to see you, but I’m absolutely terrified I’m going to destroy the world and everything I love. Every single time I fall into the past it hurts almost as badly as the cruciatus and you don’t know what this has been like for me, what I’ve had to let happen. What I’ve made happen. It’s not all about you, Sirius!” Harry shouted, the sofa starting to shake with his anger and fear and pent-up magic. 

His chest felt tight and his lungs too shallow and he couldn’t stand this anymore, the anger and fear and distrust.

Sirius looked deep into his eyes and instead of continuing to shout, he pulled Harry tight against him in an embrace. “Breathe, Harry! Are you alright?”

“No, I don’t think I am,” Harry muttered into the crook of Sirius’s neck.

“What happened to you?’” Sirius asked, his voice soft and low, the anger deflating out of him like a balloon.

“You know I can’t tell you, Padfoot.”

“Fine,” Sirius muttered. “The cruciatus? Almost as bad? Harry, you’ve experienced an unforgivable?”

All three, he wanted to say, but didn’t. “Yes,” Harry admitted instead.

“Oh Merlin,” Sirius said, carding his hands through his hair. “We wanted to make this world better for you. We’re trying. Me and your parents.”

“I know,” Harry replied.

“Who did it? I’ll kill them before they can,” Sirius offered and this, this was the problem with time travel.

“He’ll get his in the end, don’t worry. You know one of the things I admire about you Sirius?” he asked, changing the topic.

“No, but go on,” Sirius replied, moving the pair of them to sit down on his beat-up sofa.

“I admire you so much. Your bravery, your brain, your wit, and that you could have chosen to not be a part of this war but you made the choice to stand up against Voldemort,” Harry said. 

“Of course I have to fight,” Sirius said, raising his eyebrows.

“Sirius—you’re a pureblood, how easy would it have been for you to sit on your arse and do nothing? But you fight against blood purity when the whole magical world has been laid out to give you every advantage and you’ve told the system to fuck off. You’re fighting your relatives instead of taking a cushy Pureblood job or being the little Lord of the Manor”

Sirius laughed. “It wouldn’t have been easy to do nothing, that’s not me.”

“I know,” Harry said. "You're special, you know."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I'm still angry."

"That's fine," Harry said. "Can you keep holding me though? So I know this is real."

Sirius looked up to the sky as if asking the heavens for help before lying down and pulling Harry against him so that his back was against Sirius's chest. "Alright?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, interlocking his fingers with Sirius's. "I'm just so tired and don't know what to do."

"Dumbledore would say do what's right and not easy and your Grandfather would say listen to the little voice inside of you and your Dad would say, Merlin, just do something."

Harry laughed. "And you, what would you do?"

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but Harry never got the answer. He felt the magic of the veil start to build up instead him again. He grabbed his rucksack with the cloak inside and willed himself to not go back to the future, but he wasn’t specific enough, he still found it hard to breathe.

He was back at Grimmauld Place, and Sirius was smaller than he had ever seen him, maybe five years old or so. He was bent over a desk, clutching a quill and attempting not to spill ink everywhere. It looked to him like he was copying out the Black family tree.

“Hi, Sirius,” Harry said, bending down to smile at him. “What are you doing?”

Sirius jumped up at the sound and spilled ink all over the desk, paling. “Who are you?” His hands were balled in fists and he was shaking but looked ready to fight him.

“My name is Harry, and I’d like to be your friend if you’d let me,” Harry said, his tone as gentle and kind as he could make it.

“How do I know that you’re not a muggle or mudblood out to kidnap me from the Noble House of Black?”

“Mudblood is not a nice word,” Harry responded with no bite in his voice before clearing up the spilled ink with a wordless Scourify.

Sirius’s big gray eyes got even bigger as he watched the magic. “Okay, so you’re a wizard,” he conceded. “Are you off to sell me to pirates? Do you have a parrot to deliver your post?”

Harry laughed. “I’m not going to sell you to pirates---I don’t know any! Do you like pirate ships?”

“Yes! I’m going to be the captain of one and sail to the magical hidden city of Atlantis. They can do spells underwater!” Sirius replied, shedding his fear rapidly.

“That sounds like fun,” Harry replied.

“I’m going to have adventures instead of being stuck here all day,” Sirius said, hands on his hips.

“I think you’ll have lots of adventures,” Harry agreed. 

Sirius beamed at him in response. “You’re not like my other tutors at all!”

“That’s because I’m not a tutor, I’m your friend,” Harry explained. “Do you have any spare parchment?”

Sirius looked dubious, but went and handed him a sheet.

Transfiguration wasn’t his best subject but he could do this. With a few incantations, the parchment folded into a flying pirate ship, with little masts, coloured in gold.

“Wicked! I’m going to be able to do magic like that one day,” Sirius shouted as he chased the pirate ship around the room.

“Probably better even,” he said to himself, Sirius and his father were some of McGonagall’s all-time favourite students. 

“What should we name our ship?” Sirius asked.

“Hmm, you pick?” 

“The flying dragon!” 

“That’s a very good name,” Harry replied, and made a little fire dragon dance out of his wand. It was cheap tricks for kids, but it always made Al squeal with delight. Or Gideon now, Harry mused, his head hurting.

They played for what must have been hours before Harry felt the familiar tingle of time travel, dragging him somewhere else.

Don’t take me home, Harry wished fiercely. I need this fixed.

And he wasn’t home. He fell hard, landing on his bottom on a sandy beach.

“Harry,” Sirius said, his voice all grown up. “I haven’t seen this you in a while. Come here.”

Harry scooted next to where Sirius was sitting on the shore, and let Sirius wrap an arm around his shoulders. It felt like an anchor, keeping him on the ground, solid and warm and _alive_.

“How long ago did you take me away?” Harry asked.

“Around six months ago and you’ve only just started to realise that I mean it when I tell you you’re special. You’ve stopped volunteering to cook for me, at least.”

Harry remembered. “It felt like I was living in a dream.”

“With a fugitive godfather who can’t sleep half the time because of night terrors and being homeschooling with old magic primers?”

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“I did the right thing then?” Sirius asked, voice maudlin and elsewhere.

“My years with you in this lifetime were the happiest I’ve had until my sons were born,” Harry admitted, his voice thick with emotion. 

Sirius nodded. “So I’m dead then?”

Harry just blinked at him.

“I know you, Harry James. You’re looking at me like you’re trying to remember something. It’s fine. I never thought I would die an old wizard in my bed, doesn’t suit me, does it?” Sirius joked, full of bravado.

Harry looked down at the sand.

“I only hope that you didn’t have to see it,” Sirius said eventually, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’ve seen enough.”

“I have, yes,” Harry admitted, listening to the waves lap against the shore and feeling a need to confess. He opened his mouth but Sirius cut him off.

“Don’t tell me how or when or why,” Sirius said, shoving a hand over Harry’s mouth. “Don’t.”

Harry nodded, but Sirius kept his hand there.

“I’m not afraid of dying,” Sirius told him. “But that little boy in the cottage behind us needs someone and all he has is me, so if you tell me how I die, I think I might be a coward and avoid it so I can be there for him.”

“You’re there for me. You were the first person to give me a hug, you know,” Harry said.

“Bollocks, James and Lily did all the time, they loved you more than anything, you just can’t remember,” Sirius muttered. “But you were the same to me with your kindness, you know what my mum is like.”

“Was like,” Harry corrected.

“Ah, is she dead now? Thank Merlin for small mercies,” Sirius joked. “How messed up are we Harry?”

“Pretty messed up,” Harry agreed.

“I forgot that I kissed you once, Azkaban took it away from me. I got it back, I remember my hands in your messy hair and how your magic lives underneath your skin like lightning, like a summer storm, it’s like whisky settling pleasantly inside you,” Sirius admitted.

“I didn’t know you were a romantic,” Harry said quietly, his heart feeling ready to burst.

“You don’t know everything about me,” Sirius protested.

“I want to,” Harry said quietly, and Sirius closed his eyes. Harry leaned in and gently kissed him, trying to put all of himself into it.

Sirius responded immediately, it was a little sloppy and unpractised from years without but it was _Sirius_ so it didn’t even matter.

But it didn’t last. He felt himself start to fade.

The beach and Sirius as he last remembered him disappeared.

And he fell and kept falling, back and forth for what felt like days, hiding from his father and the other Marauders in Gryffindor Tower, helping Sirius study for his OWLs, attending the better part of a Muggle rock gig with him until finally, finally, he made it to the Department of Mysteries. 

He was wearing his cloak, one of the Hallows, and he was still the master of the elder wand. 

He cast a charm on himself to quicken his reflexes and be more alert and he waited by the opening of the veil. His body was thrumming with adrenaline and nervous tension, his wand at the ready. He could do this.

A moment later, he saw them. Sirius was in chains, being dragged by Walden McNair and Rufus Scrimgeour while Cornelius Fudge and Amelia Bones looked on grimly.

Even his mouth was bound and gagged, words from wizards had power even without wands.

“I’m so happy to see this ordeal finally coming to an end,” Cornelius Fudge said with a long-suffering sigh.

“Minister? Can I do it?” McNair asked, his pale face glowing with sick happiness at about what he was about to do.

Harry positioned himself just to the side of the veil, tensing as he waited for just the right moment. Too soon, he'd give himself away. Too late and Sirius was gone forever.

“Go on, toss him in,” Fudge said, and Scrimgeour flicked the curtain open with his wand.

Harry _willed_ , and whispered to the veil, _Sirius Black is mine_ , putting as much magical power in it as he could. _Sirius Black is mine, give him back to me, he’s mine_ ,

As McNair motioned to shove him in, Harry grabbed hold of Sirius and visualised his home in the present. He closed his eyes and let the veil’s magic envelop them like a lover and Harry screamed as they disappeared.

It was working, they were leaving the ministry, he saw the veil close behind them, McNair thought he did it, that the veil sucked him in whole, when it was really letting him go.

Sirius’s eyes were wide with shock and Harry laughed with tears in his eyes as he landed on his own bedroom floor.

He felt lighter, free of the curse that had lodged itself in his bones. It was gone.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at him.

“Ah, right,” Harry said, and with an _emancipare_ , the shackles fell off of Sirius’s hands and feet and the gag dropped out of his mouth.

Sirius coughed and rubbed at his wrists. “Harry, where have you taken me?”

“My home,” Harry said gently.

“The future?” Sirius asked.

“The future,” Harry said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a wild ride, but it's slowing down.
> 
> Thanks to those who have read and commented. Let me know if you're enjoying and happy to talk theories and Sirius and Harry in the comments.
> 
> -J


	9. Chapter 9

Sirius stared at Harry for a long moment, before starting to pace. “Can you take me back?”

Harry felt ill. “Sirius, they were about to kill you!”

Sirius didn’t react to that. “I had promised you that I would be there for you. I had big plans for Christmas!”

Harry reached out and grabbed Sirius’s wrists, casting a healing charm at where the manacles had upset his skin. “You did take care of me. And I got you killed.”

“Harry, no,” Sirius said, his gray eyes as dark as an oncoming storm. “I made the choice to take you to the platform, there’s a million other ways we could have got you to Hogwarts but I wanted you to make friends on the train like I did.”

“I got you killed when I was 15 too,” Harry said, the words escaping out of his mouth before he even realised he was speaking.

“What happened?” Sirius replied, looking concerned, but Harry was as sane as he had ever been. It had all happened, even if he was the only one that kept the memories.

“It was a trap,” Harry started to explain, still full of guilt and regret. He took a deep breath before giving the whole story to Sirius and his part in it, how Sirius came running when Harry was in danger and got bested by Bellatrix, and how 13 years later, Harry had broken the cardinal rule of time-travel because he couldn’t stand to see Sirius cold and alone in Azkaban.

Sirius let him speak without interrupting and when he was done, he laughed, a strange, broken sound. “Harry, you’ve known me all my life, you know me better than anyone, you’ve seen the worst and best parts of me.”

“Yes,” Harry said quietly. “I know you.” 

“Don’t you know that I’d rather live one day free than a thousand trapped in Azkaban or Grimmauld Place? I’d say I forgive you, but there’s nothing to forgive,” Sirius said, staring him straight in the eyes.

Harry felt instantly lighter, like the vise around in his heart that was always there since Sirius died started to float away. 

"How long have you been carrying that weight, sweetheart?" Sirius asked him.

"A long time," Harry replied, resting his head in the crook of Sirius's neck, breathing in the solid, real weight of him. He smelled like the sea and sandalwood and _home_.

Sirius pulled away after a moment. “I’m the one that should ask for your forgiveness. I left you too and I said I wouldn’t. The last time I saw you, you were on your way to Hogwarts. You were so brave and so small."

“I got bigger,” Harry joked, but it fell flat.

Sirius started speaking at a mile-a-minute. “You can tell me everything now that we’re in the future, right? There was always so much you didn’t tell me! Were you in Gryffindor? Did you have fun? Were you Head Boy like your Dad? You must have passed your OWLS and NEWTS, you’re an Auror, right? Tell me everything!” 

“I was a Gryffindor, yeah,” Harry replied. “And now I have the time to tell you whatever you want to know.”

Sirius beamed at him, and Harry felt dizzy with affection, until he heard his wife shout his name.

“Harry! Are you alright if I leave or should I sent Mum around?” he heard Ginny yell from downstairs, and he flicked open the door with his wand.

“Gin? Can you come up here? It’s Sirius,” he yelled back.

Ginny sprinted up the stairs and said, “What’s serious?” before her eyes landed on the man himself. “Oh, it's _Sirius_ ,” she continued. Her shoulders were ramrod-straight and she looked at Sirius like he was a puzzle she was trying to solve.

“Well, you’re more handsome than I expected,” Ginny said eventually, her voice flat.

“Did you not see any pictures?” Sirius joked, but Harry could see how nervous he was. 

“I have,” Ginny replied, adjusting with the hem of her Holyhead Harpies practice uniform. “We had a photo of you next to Harry’s parents and my brother Fred at an empty table at our wedding.”

Sirius looked pained for a second before a mask settled across his face. “Mrs. Potter, then? The other two women I’ve known with that title were wonderful, so it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Sirius extended his hand. 

Ginny stared at his hand for a second before stepping over and throwing her arms around him in a fierce hug and Harry was reminded why he loved her. “You can call me Ginny.”

“Weasley?” Sirius asked.

Ginny let go of him and tossed her hair over her shoulders. “What gave it away, the ginger hair of the freckles or both?”

“The general everything,” Sirius said. 

Ginny smiled. “It really is so good to meet you Sirius. Thank you for taking care of Harry.”

Sirius looked over toward him and smiled. “It was the greatest privilege of my life.”

Some of the tension bled out of Ginny’s shoulders. “ _When_ are you from?”

“1991,” he said.

Harry did the math, Sirius was 31, they had never been this close in age before.

“I saw you on the platform you know, I thought Harry was very cute and I liked his giant dog,” Ginny said.

“Padfoot’s always a hit,” Sirius replied. “Did you two meet on the train?”

Ginny shook her head. “I was a year below Harry at school, but he saved my life in my first year with the Sword of Gryffindor, it was very dashing.” 

Sirius looked over between Ginny and Harry. “She’s not kidding?”

“There was a basilisk,” Harry explained. “We’re alright.”

Sirius cursed a blue streak underneath his breath.

“We’re safe,” Ginny said, her voice steady. “We have been for the past ten years or so. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I’m not worried, I’m furious,” Sirius said.

“Is that better?” Harry asked, starting to feel amused against his will, that the diary and the Chamber of Secrets was so far in his past now that he could joke about it.

“I’m not sure yet,” Sirius replied. “You were supposed to be safe at Hogwarts.”

“We weren’t,” Harry said quietly. “But it’s over now.”

Ginny continued. “The world wasn’t safe until Voldemort was killed for good—and Harry defeated him.”

“I had help,” he protested.

Ginny ignored him. “We were children fighting a war, Sirius, but our children aren’t going to have to live like we did. Harry made sure of it.”

“Your children?” Sirius asked, his voice almost reverent.

Ginny nodded. “Harry—why don’t you go introduce Sirius to our boys? I’ll be back late after practice?” 

“You’re leaving?” Harry asked.

“I have to go. Plus, you know flying always clears my head,” Ginny said with a smile at the two of them before apparating away.

Harry knew she must have mixed feelings, but appreciated her kindness in that moment more than he could say. He took a deep breath, and grabbed Sirius’s hand, before dragging him to the hall. “Come on, Padfoot. There’s two people that I think you’d like to meet.”

Sirius squeezed his hand in liue of a reply.

He went into James’s room first, and he was still sleeping, having kicked off his blankets in his sleep like he always did.

Harry went over and sat on the bed. “It’s wake up time,” he sang gently, carding his hands through his son’s unruly brown hair.

James yawned and blinked his big brown eyes open. “Morning, Daddy. Can we have pancakes?”

“Sure,” Harry said, and gestured to Sirius, who was standing in the doorway with wet eyes. “I want you to meet somebody first.”

Sirius came inside the room, slowly walking to Harry’s side.

“James Sirius, I want you to meet my godfather, Sirius Black,” Harry said.

“Hello!” James said, waving at him. “Do you want pancakes too?”

Sirius laughed, wiping at tears in his eyes. “I’d love some, thank you.”

“Why are you crying?” James asked, tactful as only a 4-year old could be.

“Because I’m very happy to meet you, and am so honoured that you share my name,” Sirius said.

“You’re weird,” James noted. “Hey, aren’t you a doggy? Daddy said you could turn into one!”

In lieu of an answer, Sirius just changed into Padfoot, and licked James’s face, making him squeal.

“I like you,” James said to him, petting his fur gently. 

“I like him too,” Harry said. “Let’s go wake up your brother and get those pancakes, hmm?

“Or we could just get pancakes,” James suggested.

“Be nice to your brother,” Harry reminded him and James huffed, but ran up to his brothers room. Sirius transformed back into a man along the way.

“Wake up Gid!!” James shouted, but as the three of them entered the room, Gideon was already awake, and playing with his dragon plushie.

Gideon made his dragon wave hello to all of them.

“Gideon Potter, I want you to meet Sirius Black,” Harry introduced, giving his son his good-morning hug.

“He’s a doggy,” James explained, jumping on the bed.

“I can be, I’m an animagus, a wizard who can turn into an animal,” Sirius explained kindly.

Gideon smiled at him. “And you’re a friend of Daddy?”

Sirius nodded. “He was my first friend.”

“You can be my friend too?” Gideon offered shyly, extending his toy to Sirius.

“I would like that very much,” Sirius replied.


	10. Chapter 10

_Six months later_

The Holyhead Harpies were up by a full 100 points against Falmouth, and Ginny was playing the best game of her career. Her and Gwenog Jones worked seamless together, scoring goal after goal.

The commentator had talked about how Potter was a shoo-in for the England National Team, and Harry was so proud of his wife.

He, Sirius and the boys were sat in the family and friends box, with a perfect view of the pitch below.

Gideon had already fallen asleep on Harry’s lap, he had worn himself out running out to try and keep up with the action.

Harry’s hands were running through his son’s hair, keeping him peaceful while James was sat on Sirius’s shoulders, excitedly clapping each time the quaffle went through the hoops.

Ginny had scored another goal past the keeper and Sirius ran around and whooped loudly, making James shout out with joy.

Harry cheered them on, and wished he could put the moment in a pensive to save it forever, with the people he loved around him so happy.

He heard the door to the box open and he turned his head. Nymphadora Tonks grinned at him and tripped over one of the seats before flopping down to his left.

“Graceful as ever, cousin,” Sirius said and Tonks rolled her eyes.

“Enjoying the match?” Harry asked.

“I wasn’t paying much attention, I came to find you,” Tonks muttered before making James giggle by changing her nose that of a pigs.

“Is everything fine?” Harry asked, adrenaline start to build up inside of him. His hand went to his wand.

“Everything’s great Potter,” Tonks replied. “I’ve just found the man you asked me to look for. Lupin, remember?”

Harry sat up straighter, careful not to disturb Gideon. “And you spoke to him?”

“He caught me following him, yeah,” Tonks said, her cheeks turning pink.

Sirius noticed. “You’d think a metamorphagus could control a blush!”

Tonks shifted into Sirius, pink hair going black before shooting him the two-finger salute. “Is this better? I’ve bet this face has never blushed.”

James roared with laughter, and put his two fingers up as well.

“No, that’s not nice,” Harry muttered, knowing he would continue to do that for days. He was a little sponge.

“Sorry Harry,” Tonks said before turning back into her pink-haired self.

“It’s fine, he’s a Weasley, he’s seen worse. But Lupin! I’m glad you liked him,” Harry said. “How is he?”

“I never said I liked him,” Tonks lied through her teeth. “He’s living as a muggle down in the Valleys.”

“Is he alright?” Sirius asked.

Tonks make a so-so gesture with her left hand. “After I explained why I was following him---as a favour to you—he gave me his address. We had tea and he said you could stop by tomorrow or the day after if you’re so keen on meeting him.” Her voice had taken on a softer tone when she mentioned him.

“Thank you,” Harry said earnestly.

“Not a bother,” Tonks replied, slipping Sirius the piece of paper with Remus’s address on it. “Now what kind of snacks does this fancy box come with?”

Sirius laughed, and pointed to the table behind them. Tonks saluted him, grabbed a sandwich and walked off.

It had taken half-a-year, but Harry was so grateful to her for finally finding Remus.

The next morning, Sirius was waiting in front of the house, leaning against his motorbike. He was scowling up at the bright morning sun, and Harry thought he had never seen anyone more beautiful.

He remembered the gratitude and wonder on Sirius’s face when Harry had got Hagrid to return the bike to him, and Harry smiled at the memory.

“Are you ready to go and find Moony?” Sirius asked him.

Harry wasn’t, but he nodded anyways. Sirius must have seen something in his face. He got close to him and zipped up the crisp black leather jacket Harry was wearing, a gift from Sirius.

Sirius then stole a kiss, fierce but tender. Harry relaxed into it, his knees still going weak when he kissed the pulse point on his neck. Sirius had figured out the spots that drove him crazy so quickly, he was such a fast learner.

“Sweetheart, it’s only Moony,” Sirius said. “You’ve fought basilisks and dementors and _Voldemort_. Don’t lose your courage now.”

“Yeah, but this is different. I can’t say I was bothered if Voldemort hated me,” Harry joked, and Sirius barked out a laugh before hopping onto his bike.

Harry slid on behind him, wrapping his arms around Sirius a little tighter than he had to. He smelled like the clean, fresh scent of his shampoo, though Harry could tell he must have sneaked a cigarette in the garden too.

Harry wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

He was silent, listening to the sounds of the bike and the road as Sirius sped away. Once they got to a clear stretch of road, Sirius disillusioned the bike and headed for the skies. Harry cast a warming charm over them both and smiled as they got higher and higher. He always felt so free in the skies.

After a while, Sirius brought the bike down on a small country lane in the Valleys. He drove slowly down gravel roads, passing farms and village shop and pubs with people and their dogs drinking outside in the early spring sunshine.

Sirius stopped the bike in front of a smaller, ramshackle pub further down the road, one whose garden let out into lush green rolling hills.

“I’d rather not show up drunk,” Harry grumbled, and Sirius flicked him on the forehead.

“That’s just you, I’d rather show up _drunk_ but this is actually the address,” Sirius replied, looking for a back entrance. Harry quickened his pace to keep up with him, and drew on his courage as they pressed the buzzer.

The door opened for them, and Harry let Sirius take the lead, going up the stairs. The hallway was a little damp but smelled like recently applied cleaning charms. When they got to the top, the door to the flat above the pub was open and they stepped right in.

Remus was waiting for them on the sofa, his head cradled in his hands. He looked tired and thin and _weary_ , but was clean-shaven and wearing what must have been his best trousers and cardigan for the occasion. His eyes lit up when he saw them, focusing on Sirius first before flicking toward Harry.

“You’re looking very well old friend,” Remus said quietly.

Sirius just rolled his eyes and closed the gap between the two of them, folding Remus in his arms in an embrace just like Remus did to him in the Shrieking Shack all those years ago. But that only existed in Harry’s memories—not for them.

“Sirius, I’m so sorry,” Remus said.

“Don’t be,” Sirius said. “I thought you were the traitor and from what I understand of what happened before the veil, you only told Dumbledore about Padfoot because you thought Harry was in danger.”

At this, Remus pulled away and looked at Harry. “I expect you’re tired of hearing this, but you do look exceptionally like your parents.”

“He looks like himself, James never got old enough to have a gray hair, look!” Sirius said, pointing to the _one_ gray hair on Harry’s head.

“You’re giving me a complex,” Harry muttered, flattening down his hair.

Remus looked between the two of them and a smile appeared on his face, transforming him into the man that Harry once knew. “It’s very nice to meet you Harry, as an adult.”

Harry took a deep breath. “The thing is Prof—Remus,” he stumbled on his words. “It’s that you do know me already. Or you did, not as a baby I mean. As a teacher.”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost me,” Remus said mildly, looking over to Sirius for help. Sirius was very deliberately looking at the ceiling.

“It’s my fault you were in Azkaban,” Harry explained.

“You were eleven when I killed Pettigrew,” Remus said, his voice as calm as discussing the weather. “I paid for my sins, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Except it was,” Harry protested. “I uh, had a little time-travel problem after being hit with the veil in the department of mysteries. In my original timeline, Sirius died there when I was 15…and in my travels I encouraged him to break down out of Azkaban earlier than he did originally. He took me from my Muggle relatives, and you know the rest.”

“Right, okay,” Remus said, sitting back down.

“He’s not crazy, Moony,” Sirius spoke up. “Harry was there for me, sometimes for only minutes, as long as I can remember, even when I was a child, long before he was born. The veil cursed him to come to me in the past, until he did the impossible and brought me back to his own time. He’s good at the impossible, my Harry.”

“Alright,” Remus said. “Can you explain what you meant about knowing me?”

Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Yeah, you were our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor in third year. Best teacher I ever had. You taught me this,” he said, before pulling out his wand and casting his Patronus.

Prongs canted out of his wand and looked around the room, bowing low to Moony. The magic still knew who he owed gratitude to.

“Hello Prongs,” Remus whispered. “I think I would have liked being a teacher at Hogwarts. I earn some extra money tutoring muggle children in Latin when I’m not doing shifts downstairs but to teach magic? I would have liked that.”

“You were great at it,” Harry said. “Remus—do you know legilimency at all?”

“I’m passable, but it doesn’t come naturally to me,” he said, furrowing his brow.

“Take a look,” Harry said, gesturing to his head.

“If you insist,” Remus said, pulling his wand out of his pocket. “Legilmens!”

_Professor RJ Lupin was standing at the front of the defense classroom, every student captivated by his lesson. There was a boggart in the wardrobe and Neville was terrified of Snape but Professor Lupin turned that fear into laughter. Harry was on the ground, nearly passed out, Professor Lupin giving him a hand after he had another unsuccessful attempt at casting a patronus. He was older now, he was 15 and so angry and so terrified and so alone watching his godfather go through the veil and any chance of a family with it._

_Remus held him back, his presence an anchor to Harry for a moment._

_Two years later Remus was a father and asking him, “You’ll be godfather, won’t you?” Harry wondered if it was because there was no one else but Teddy was the best little boy on the planet._

_The memories shifted again, and Harry was alone in bed with Sirius for the first time, he couldn’t get his hands on enough of him, but no, this memory, this was private and Harry kicked Remus out. He had seen enough._

“The boy was mine?” Remus said first, wonder in his voice.

Harry nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologised again, but Remus held a hand up.

“It seems like I’m quite dead in your memories, along with Sirius here, so I’d rather not keep trading apologies,” Remus said firmly. “I forgive you.”

Harry was overtaken by the grace Remus had just offered him. Thanks didn’t seem to be enough.

“If we’re through saying sorry, Harry’s got some ideas,” Sirius said, sitting down on the ratty sofa next to Remus.

“I have a friend willing to deliver Wolfsbane to you,” Harry explained. “And I know you have no reason to trust the ministry or me but would you be interested in leading courses for Auror Trainees? You’re such a good teacher and we could work around the moons, whatever fits your schedule.”

Remus was quiet for a moment. “I’ve not been in our world for some time, Harry.”

“I know,” he replied. “But we’ve tried to make it better, there’s some anti-discrimination laws on the books. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but will you come back to us?”

“Are you really telling me the ministry will hire a werewolf?”

Sirius spoke up first. “Harry doesn’t use it much, but he has quite a lot of influence. If he says he can make it happen, he can.”

“A benefit of defeating Voldemort, I suppose,” Remus mused.

“One of many,” Harry joked, the horror of the situation many years behind him now.

“Is another one of them that no one cares that you’re shagging your godfather?” Remus asked, looking between him and Sirius.

Harry opened his mouth to defend Sirius, but Remus just shook his head.

“I shouldn’t judge,” Remus apologised. “In your mind, I saw how you feel, and it’s very…honest and real and new. There’s nothing tainted there for you.”

“I love him,” Harry said simply, and Remus nodded. He snuck at glance at Sirius, his gray eyes were wide and filled with wonder, like he still couldn’t believe Harry was here and not going anywhere.

“I know it’s weird Moony, but it’s always been him for me,” Sirius admitted.

Remus sighed, but said nothing else.

“Moony—will you let us take care of you?” Sirius asked.

Remus took a moment to speak. “I don’t need taking care of, but when can I start at the ministry? If I accept.”

“Next week,” Harry answered. “I’ll send over an owl with a contract and a fresh set of ministry robes for you and a copy of our outdated trainee handbook, maybe we can work on a new one?”

“Thank you,” Remus said, and meant it. “Now, I don’t have much here, but if we go downstairs, I can get you a half-priced burger and a pint or two? It’s not bad, the food.”

“A burger sounds great,” Sirius said, rising to his feet. They followed Moony downstairs and heard tales of his Muggle life in the valleys and Harry told him about Gideon and James and how being a father was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

They spent hours talking, the conversation flowing like they didn’t have years and death and guilt between them, and as the sky started to darken to black, Sirius and Harry wished Remus a goodnight and headed back on the bike.

“Pull over,” Harry said, before Sirius took the bike in the air.

Sirius found a place to stop and Harry took a few steps into an open field, staring at the clear sky. He could see the constellation his lover was named after in the southeast of the sky, the brightest star of them all.

“Talk to me, Harry,” Sirius said quietly, squeezing his hand.

“I’m just looking at you,” Harry replied, looking at the stars.

“I’m not there, not anymore,” Sirius said. “I’m here, with you, and not going anywhere.”

Harry felt grateful that Sirius understood him. “Take me back,” he asked, and Sirius walked him back over to the bike.

The stars looked closer as the motorbike took to the skies.

Sirius brought him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is complete, I've hope you enjoyed the ride. 
> 
> I have a few one-shots and missing scenes in this verse if anyone is interested. They include a few porny bits and moments from Harry's time at Hogwarts after knowing who Sirius was. Let me know if you'd like me to start posting them.
> 
> Lots of love,
> 
> \--J


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little one-shot after the ending of the story. It does involve time-travel and Sirius is 18, Harry is 30 here. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy, it's been a delight writing this and reading your comments.

“It's hard being left behind...It's hard to be the one who stays...Why is love intensified by absence?”   
― Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler's Wife.

Harry woke up to Sirius staring at him strangely.

“What is it?” Harry asked, voice still rough with sleep. “Bad dream?”

Sirius shook his head. “You’re still quite tan, but it’s fading.”

Harry just blinked at him. “Are you alright?”

Sirius shrugged. “I…may have done something when I was 18.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Harry said, rubbing at his eyes.

Sirius grimaced. “I might have used a blood spell to summon you. I came across the spell while doing research for the Order, it brings a person’s dead true love to them at night on Samhain and brings them back when the sunrises.”

“Did you obligate me or has it not happened yet?” Harry asked, feeling more off-balance.

“It hasn’t happened for you yet, I think it will soon. I did obliviate myself though,” Sirius muttered.

“Why? Was I awful to you?”

Sirius cupped his face with his palm and kissed him, answering the question that way at first. "No, you were wonderful, too good, maybe. I got drunk soon after and removed the memory because I was sick of dwelling on it.”

“Did the obliviation not take?” Harry asked.

“It did, for a while. I remembered in Azkaban, the dementors had shaken it loose,” Sirius said, grimacing, and rubbing at his wrists.

Harry kissed the inside of both wrists, where manacles once dug into the skin.

It was enough for Sirius. “I’m sorry in advance.”

Harry shrugged. “I can’t say I’m happy about travelling again, but as long as I come back, I can manage.”

Sirius nodded, and he tried not to dwell on the conversation, but the next day, it happened.

Harry was travelling again, but it didn’t feel like it did before. It wasn’t painful, it was gentle and wrapped him up like a lover’s caress.

When he blinked his eyes open, he was back at Sirius’s awful flat. Sirius was lounging on his bed, wearing a slate grey silk robe that wasn’t closed all the way. He looked like Christmas, like a present he wanted to unwrap, but Harry just sighed.

“Harry!” Sirius said, delighted. “You made it.”

“Do you want to explain how I got here?” Harry asked calmly, already knowing the answer, but pretending he didn't.

Sirius nodded, way too pleased with himself. “It’s Samhain. The veils between the living and dead are the thinnest, and I did a ritual to bring you here. But you’ll be back where you came from at sunrise.”

Harry wondered just how spectacularly this would have backfired if he hadn’t died once already. “What did you give it? The spell?”

“Just a bit of blood,” Sirius said, shrugging. “Nothing I can’t get back.”

Harry exhaled, and took a seat on the bed next to Sirius, and kicked his shoes off.

“You’re tan. And older,” Sirius noted, studying the lines of his face.

“I just turned 30, and spent a little bit of time in Greece with the people I love,” Harry said, smiling as he remembered swimming in the clear blue water with his children and how Sirius and George teamed up to prank him. “And how old are you Sirius? You’re out of Hogwarts.”

“I’ll be 19 in a few days,” Sirius said, leaning in toward him. He reached a hand up toward his temple, and tucked an errant lock of hair behind his ear. “Look at that, you have a few grey hairs.”

Harry looked up toward the ceiling. “I know.”

Sirius’s hand moved down toward his neck. “I think it’s handsome, don’t worry.”

“Sirius Black, you are a _menace_ ,” Harry sighed, but that only spurred him on.

Sirius, so brave, leaned in to kiss him and Harry let him for a moment, kissing him back just in the way that he learned Sirius liked.

Harry pulled away. “This is so unfair to you.”

“Why? Because you’re leaving in the morning? We have hours, this time. And you always leave, I’m used to it,” Sirius said, raring to fight.

“Probably because I’ll ruin you for other men,” Harry muttered, and Sirius laughed.

“Are you that confident in your skills?”

Harry wasn’t, but he knew Sirius’s body now. Just how he liked to be touched; the spots that drove him wild. He had nearly two years of knowledge on how to best please him, to make him see stars.

“It’s fine if you don’t want me. I just thought, I’m not in school anymore, I’m grown, and I would never know if I didn’t try,” Sirius said eventually, pulling his robe tighter around him.

“Want is never the issue with us,” Harry replied, but at the sad dog look on Sirius’s face, he gave in, of course he did. He had already done it, hadn’t he? And done it so well Sirius had erased it from his mind for a time.

He reached toward Sirius, and pulled loose the knot holding his robe shut, opening him up to him, showing off his smooth, pale skin. This body had never been hungry and it pleased Harry to see how thick Sirius’s thighs were.

Harry just _looked_ at him for a moment, before leaning in to kiss his neck, biting lightly just the way that made Sirius moan and squirm beneath him.

“Not fair,” Sirius whimpered. “I’m basically naked and you’re still fully clothed.”

Harry grinned and extended his arms out. “Go on then, I know you want to.”

Sirius stumbled over, ungracefully and tugged Harry’s shirt over his head, sending his glasses falling to the floor. Harry caught them, and put them back on.

“Easy,” he said, reaching out to grab Sirius’s hand. “We have all night, remember?”

Sirius nodded, and Harry didn’t let go of his hand, instead bringing it up toward his face. He kissed his palm and then took his index finger in his mouth, sucking lighting on the tip.

“Merlin,” Sirius muttered, before taking his hand back, and helping Harry out of his trousers, leaving him bare to him.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” Harry promised, as he looked down at Sirius, who was already so flushed and so hard. He reached down and wrapped a hand around Sirius’s length, and started stroking him the way he liked, with just the right amount of pressure to drive him wild.

“You are going to ruin me,” Sirius whispered as he reached out to touch Harry. “Slow it down though, I’ll come if you don’t stop it.”

Harry stopped for a second, and kissed Sirius soundly, grinding up against him. “But what if I want you to come? To watch you come undone before I make love to you.”

“Your mouth is ridiculous,” Sirius said.

“Yeah? Do you want to see how ridiculous?” Harry asked, before kissing his way down Sirius’s chest, and licking along his cock before taking it entirely in his mouth, bobbing his head.

“You’re going to kill me,” Sirius moaned, and Harry’s heart broke a little because, yes, he would, but he didn’t stop, he just increased his efforts, dragging Sirius to the edge, and backing off just when he was about to find release.

Harry pulled his head way and looked up at Sirius. “I’d really like to have you come when I’m inside you. Is that something you’re comfortable with?”

Sirius nodded so fast Harry worried if he’d get whiplash.

“Do you have lube or will I have to conjure it?”

Sirius summoned a bottle from his nightstand without using his wand, and Harry kissed him, still so impressed by the casual display of magic.

Harry squeezed a liberal amount onto his fingers and cock, squeezing himself a few times, before reaching down to touch Sirius. He was gentle, he knew how sensitive he was here and life had hurt—and will hurt—Padfoot enough.

“I can take more,” Sirius said, squirming beneath him.

“I know exactly how much you can take,” Harry said gently. “Let me take care of you?”

Sirius nodded and relaxed as Harry added another finger as tenderly as he could. When Sirius was on the edge and ready, Harry slid inside him, gripping his hips. It felt like coming home, it always did, but Sirius wasn’t as relaxed as he could be, so Harry gave him another few breaths to adjust.

“I’m good, please move,” Sirius begged, and who was Harry to deny him so he started moving his hips in earnest, pushing him up onto the cheap headboard.

Harry steadied himself with one hand and worked Sirius over with his left hand, leaving him sobbing with pleasure, coming loudly as Harry continued fucking into him.

He came a few moments later with a loud cry, the force of his orgasm surprising him a little.

“I loved that,” Harry said, wrapping Sirius in his arms. He always got a little quiet and still after an orgasm.

“That was amazing,” Sirius said. “But you’re right, you did ruin me. It wasn’t like that for me, before.”

Harry frowned. “It’ll get better.”

Sirius stiffened in his arms, but Harry didn’t let him get away.

“You know I can’t stay, and you can’t do this again, right? The magic will demand a higher price next time and I don’t want you to pay it,” Harry said, not wanting to hurt Sirius.

“I’m not an idiot,” Sirius said. “And I know I’ll wake up with you gone.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, before rolling over to kiss him again. "But you have me for the rest of the night, how do you want me?"

Sirius laughed, and drew Harry closer into him.

When the sun rose, it both took him away from Sirius and back to him, in the home they had created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wanted to have more of the younger Sirius and older Harry here, but this story took a life of its own. Hope you enjoyed, I do have more snippets from this universe if people are interested! Questions/comments welcome.


End file.
